Letting Go
by Sheherazade's Fable
Summary: Sequel to "Unintended Consequences" and "When I Fall." As Peter recovers at Westchester, he and Wanda are confronted with the results of their actions as members of the Brotherhood, and what that's done to their family. Meanwhile, a new threat is brewing, one that's set on getting its hands on Alexander Summers through any means necessary, including Lorna. Canon Pairings.
1. Chapter 1

Wanda had been pleasantly surprised at how fast the room had cleared out. Hank was still puttering around in the back, creating additional doses of the serum. Her brother had been a victim of the Summers radiation longer than her sister, and he was going to need a few more doses of Hank's drug before he was fit to start walking.

Magneto had, under some sign of protest, gone to one of the side rooms to discuss something with Charles. Her sister, Alex, and her mother had cleared out a while ago. She supposed that they needed some time to rest. The sun would be up soon, and the school day would begin. Wanda was exhausted, and she couldn't imagine facing children to teach in her current condition.

However, she couldn't sleep. It wasn't just that she was in the house of her enemies, seeing her mother again, or what Lorna had said to her, all but accusing her of taking advantage of her, trying to keep her a child. Those were all valid reasons to be unable to sleep, but they were not the reason.

No. It was what her brother had said when she'd asked what they were. There was no hesitation in his answer, only a dead, cold certainty.

"I think you know what that makes us."

Peter hadn't spoken since, his eyes glued on the ceiling. His hands were folded on his chest, a thin sheen of sweat still on his forehead, caused by the pain from his injury. Wanda kept an eye on Hank, waiting for him to leave again, waiting for another opportunity to talk to the only person in the world that she knew she could talk to.

She wondered, yet again, if this was what Lorna had felt like in the Brotherhood. Had she felt this trapped, this isolated? Lorna hadn't even believed that she could trust her siblings with her thoughts. It must have felt so cold, so isolated.

Had they really misunderstood her so badly? Their own childhoods had been so strange, their father ignoring them and their mother fearing them. Wanda and Peter had clung to each other, only making room for Lorna in their world. Had they been so determined to stay safe that they had tried to make it impossible for her to leave?

Eventually, Hank walked into one of the back room, two beakers in his hand. She watched the door close, counting the very seconds until she could talk to her brother.

"I'm not sure if it makes us the bad guys," she said, "I can't see it that way."

"What else do you call people who are evil?" he asked.

"We're not evil Peter," she murmured.

He took a shuddering breath.

"Not so sure about that any more," Peter said, his tone still dead.

"Everything we've done, it's all been about trying to do the right thing," said Wanda, "That's what you told me, what I believed."

Peter didn't answer, but his jaw was getting tighter. It seemed like something was winding him up. Wanda didn't want to see what happened when the spring stuck.

"Peter, we did the wrong thing with Lorna," she said, the words almost choking her, "I know that. I don't know how or when-"

"I think I know both," Peter said, "And they're both my fault. I screwed her up."

Words formed on Wanda's tongue, but she forced them away. It wasn't time to argue semantics.

"Peter, don't be so dramatic," said Wanda, "If we screwed her up, we screwed her up together."

"You tried to protect her," said Peter, "I'm the one that brought her to the Brotherhood. I'm the one who told her...I'm the one who kept talking over her that night. I'm the one who told you that we needed to stay with the Brotherhood. How do we equally share the blame for that?"

Wanda ran a hand through her hair, trying to make sense of it all. Yes, a lot of what Peter was saying was true. If it had just been her, she might have stayed with Lorna at Westchester all those years ago. Instead, she had reasoned with herself, reasoned with her brother, that they needed to stay in the Brotherhood.

She wasn't going to let him drown in guilt though. They had come to the Brotherhood as broke, scared children, looking to fight back against a world that they were scared of. All they'd had was each other and, yes, they had failed each other.

But that had just been the hand that they'd been dealt. It had been Peter's idea to go to the Brotherhood, but they hadn't had any other choice at the time. If they had stayed on the run, without money, without knowledge of the streets, with a young child with them, they would've been caught. Peter would have most likely been executed, eventually, and, given the type of people who had been chasing them, Wanda would have been due for experimentation. Lorna would have likely faced the same fate if they'd found out what she was.

"We didn't have any other choice when we were seventeen," she said, "I mean, you shouldn't have broken into the Pentagon, but I wasn't going to leave you in the hands of those...people. Lorna wasn't either."

She shook her head.

"Don't you see?" she asked, "We did what we did to protect each other. And with the Brotherhood, there wasn't any other choice Peter."

"You keep saying that," Peter said, his voice raspy, "Because you don't know any better."

Wanda paused, furrowing her brow.

"What...Peter...what are you talking about?" she asked.

"There was another choice," he said.

"What other choice?" Wanda demanded, "Running to Canada? How long do you think that would've lasted?"

"I'm not talking about Canada," Peter said.

"Then what are you talking about?' asked Wanda.

Peter suddenly fell silent. He swallowed and, for the first time, looked at her. She saw fear in his eyes, and something began to burn in her heart.

"What are you talking about?" she asked, her voice low.

"Nothing," he said, "I just...I don't feel like talking about it."

She crossed her arms. Wanda had heard that explanation for so many years that it was almost second nature to her to fall silent in its face. However, the past twenty-four hours had changed everything.

"No," she said, "You are going to explain this time Peter. What do you mean?"

He swallowed again, his eyes darting around.

"You...I never told you...that day, when I broke out Magneto...the people who hired me..." he said.

His voice became stuttering, almost as though he was only now realizing what he was saying. Wanda grasped the edge of his bed. It felt like something else was taking over her, twisting the inside of her heart.

Peter looked away, but Wanda wasn't going to let him get off that easy.

"Peter," she growled.

"One of them was Xavier," Peter said, "I...he told me if anything happened, if I needed him, I should call. He gave me his number-"

"What?" Wanda shouted.

Peter winced.

"Wanda, I didn't trust him-" he began.

"And you trusted Magneto?" she snarled.

She pushed away from his bed. Hank came back into the room, looking alarmed, but she put a hand out to stay him. He'd been a witness to so much of their family's dirty laundry, this last piece couldn't hurt.

"I just...he looked like he was doing more for mutants-" Peter said.

"He was a terrorist!" screamed Wanda, "You knew that by joining him we'd never live another normal day in our lives! You knew that it would make everything worse! We had another option, and you never told me!?"

Another door opened. Perhaps Xavier and Magneto were watching, but she didn't give a damn anymore.

"I didn't think it would matter," Peter said, looking desperate.

"Why?" she said, "Why wouldn't it have mattered? Peter, our lives could've been different! They could've been completely different!"

"We wouldn't have been fighting," said Peter, trying to push himself up, "Wanda, everything we've done, we've done for our cause!"

His words felt like a bucket of gasoline poured on a fire. It spluttered up into her throat, her very fingers. The rage burned so hot that her tongue abandoned her, and all she could do was breathe, her hands shaking with rage.

"Think about all the good we've done," he said.

"I've killed so many people," Wanda whispered, "For nothing."

"Not for nothing!" said Peter, "We're the only ones out there fighting for mutants!"

"We've been fighting for ourselves," said Wanda, "That's what it was always about. I accepted that explanation because I thought...I thought we didn't have any choice..."

Her lungs refused to take any more air. She clutched the edge of Peter's bed, leaning over, trying to breathe. Her mind flickered with the images of the men she'd killed, of the years she'd spent fighting and running.

"Oh God...oh God..." she said.

"It seemed like the best choice," Peter said.

He put a hand on her shoulder, but she jerked away. Red sparks and light danced around her. She could feel the nervousness from Xavier and Hank, the calm calculation of Magneto. Damn him. Damn them all.

"It wasn't a choice Peter," she said, "It was a choice you made for me, like we tried to make a choice for Lorna."

"Wanda, we've become a force for good in the world," Peter said.

"Do you really believe that?" she asked.

"Yes!" Peter said, "Just think for a few minutes! Everything we've done, we've done for mutants everywhere! Even if Lorna can't see it, everything we've done, we did for her and every mutant like her-"

"For her?" shrieked Wanda, "For her? We lost her Peter! We didn't screw her up, we lost her! She's gone Peter! She's gone! She'll never trust or love us like she did, and it all started with you being too selfish to tell me that there was a second option!"

Wanda turned away from him, clutching the sides of her head. Red sparks danced in front of her eyes, and she closed them, breathing harshly, bringing her powers under control.

"And I was too stupid to ask," Wanda said, "I'm to blame too, and I hate myself for it."

She opened her eyes and glared at her brother.

"Almost as much as I hate you," she said, "I don't know what I'm going to do with my life now, where I'm going to go, but there is one thing I know."

Peter's eyes were rimmed with red, gathering there. That desperation was back in his face, desperation that would have stopped her in her tracks weeks ago. Now it felt like air washing over her: something that happened, but didn't matter.

"You disgust me," she said.

She turned on her heel and went to one of the side doors.

"Wanda!" Peter yelled.

She slammed the door behind her, pressing her palm to the door knob, locking it. She could still hear her brother calling for her, hear the raised voices of Hank, of Xavier, of Magneto. It felt like being stabbed by knives, even through the flimsy protection of the door.

Wanda placed her head on the wood, her hands fisted on either side of her. She began crying then, tears that had been slowly building since she was seventeen. Wanda slid down the door and collapsed on the floor, her voice too raw to even scream.


	2. Chapter 2

Alex knocked on Lorna's door. He'd managed to get about two hours of sleep. It wasn't very good, but it was better than some of the nights he'd had with the X-men, Vietnam, and, hell, hanging around with the SSR. Internally he tried to rearrange the acronym. An old friend had mentioned that they were changing the name soon. Something about rebranding. It would take some getting used to.

Either way, he'd had a shower, a cup of coffee, and a shave. It wasn't a lot, but it was enough to wake him up. It was eight in the morning now, and the students would be crawling all over the place soon. His own time was more limited: Scott was going to be up soon, and if he didn't have breakfast with him after the day Scott had had, he knew it would be bad.

He envied Xi'an and Sam. They had managed to sleep through the hellish night they'd had downstairs, and he knew it was up to him to brief them on why there were terrorists in the basement. He felt that it wasn't up to him to brief them on the fact that they were Magda's children and Lorna's siblings. That decision lay with Lorna.

Usually it wouldn't be a big deal but, given what had happened the night before, there was no way that they could keep this quiet. Lorna was probably distraught, The Scarlet Witch and Quicksilver were probably pissed and irritable, and Magda was in shambles. Alex had seen her on his way up, and she hadn't even spoken to him. He figured she'd be taking a personal day off too.

But that was why he was up and knocking on Lorna's door. Officially Lorna had the day off of classes. That had been decided and announced even before she'd gotten radiation sickness. The effects of the radiation were gone, but her injury was still healing. Besides that, she probably needed some time off for personal reasons.

Personally, he'd rather he let the woman he love rest. This had slipped his mind the night before, and he cursed himself for it. If he'd been a bit more together, then he would've thought about this. The only thought in his mind at the time had been getting Lorna to a place where she could rest, that and the guilty giddiness that had come with her saying she loved him. Giddiness because she said it, guilty because of the giddiness in the current circumstances.

The door opened and Lorna answered, her expression wide awake. He was surprised. He'd expected that she would have fallen asleep immediately after going back to her room. That was what anyone else would have done. He was used to operating like this. Lorna wasn't.

Then he realized that there was a third option: she hadn't been able to sleep. He felt guilty for his surprise.

"Alex," she said, "Is something going on?"

"Nothing much," he said, clearing his throat, "Just um...it's getting later...and..."

"What time is it?" she asked.

"Oh, uh, eight," he said.

Lorna winced.

"I should've been down earlier," she sighed, "Class starts in an hour. I need to get things ready."

Alex paused, and then frowned.

"You don't have classes today," he said.

She blinked, looking slightly disoriented.

"You're going to spend some time recovering," Alex said.

"But I just got released from the hospital wing," said Lorna.

Her voice was quizzical. Good grief, did she want to get back to work that bad?

"For the radiation, yeah," said Alex, "Lorna, you had your entire shoulder burned. That's not going to go away overnight. I mean, the radiation was the biggest factor, and that's been taken care of, but you're still injured."

She rubbed her shoulder thoughtfully, wincing as she did so. Alex caught her hand and she looked at him, surprised.

"We talked about it yesterday," Alex said, "Hank should have told you. Remember?"

Lorna licked her lips, something he'd never seen her do before

"Sorry. I remember now," she said after a moment, "He said he was getting someone to cover for me. I guess I'm just a little out of it."

She slumped a little, the motion awkward. Alex sighed and let go of her hand. He moved it to her uninjured shoulder. Lorna looked down at his hand, almost wonderingly.

"It's okay," he said, "I know last night was pretty rough for you."

Lorna looked down. He wished she'd meet his eyes. After what she'd said last night, he wanted her to feel like she could confide in him. However, it was unfair of him to expect everything to happen at once, to just fall into place.

"And I'm sorry," he said, "But...Sam and Xi'an will be up soon. I need to know what to tell them."

She stiffened, her fingers curling.

"There's nothing to tell," Lorna said.

The tone was defensive, and he couldn't blame her. It wasn't easy saying your siblings were terrorists. But he had to tell them something. They were X-men, and there were Brotherhood members in the basement, and they needed to be told.

"There's a lot to tell," said Alex, "I know that you're...estranged from your brother and sister, but we need to tell Xi'an and Sam something. Your siblings don't seem shy about talking to you as their sister and I know that you, um..."

His tongue and brain suddenly meshed, and Alex realized how his statement sounded. From everything he'd seen last night, he could tell that Lorna still loved her brother and sister. Alex didn't really see why, but he was willing to trust Lorna. At one point or another her siblings must have been amazing people to inspire that kind of loyalty.

Personally Alex had never had trouble cutting ties to the people who betrayed him. It was why he looked at Magneto with such disgust. However, he hadn't talked the situation out with Lorna, and he knew that he needed to hear her side of the story before he went around passing judgment.

So talking like she should be ashamed of her brother and sister was probably not the best way to start things out. He expected her to look at him with at least mild irritation, but instead there was just an expression of calm expectation. She was waiting for him to continue.

As grateful as he was for it, it was still a little puzzling.

"I just figure that you deserve a chance to decide how this gets handled," he said.

She nodded, still very calm. He remembered the woman who'd cried over her siblings, like a dam that had burst being held back. Alex supposed that this was what came after the storm. He'd cried himself hoarse sometimes when he was little, his parents arguing, feeling lost in the world. After that there came a point where you couldn't cry anymore, where tears just seemed so stupid.

"Let's not tell them any more than they have to know," Lorna said, "I...given last night, I think that we might want to limit contact."

"Right," Alex said.

Downstairs, a bell went off. He sighed.

"That's the breakfast warning bell," he said, "I need to go find Sam and Xi'an, tell them that Xi'an's covering for your classes. I would but...given the current situation, the Professor has me on call."

"Of course," Lorna said.

He reached out and tentatively cupped her face.

"Are you gonna be okay?" he asked.

She smiled, the expression slightly forced.

"Yes," she said.

Alex smiled back, hoping that she knew he would be there for her. He leaned in and hesitated for a moment, before kissing her. In hindsight, a better kiss to comfort her might have been on the forehead or on the cheek. Her lips were slightly stiff beneath his. Kisses on the forehead in the future.

"I'll see you later," he said.

She nodded and slipped back into her room. Alex rubbed his forehead before going downstairs. Xi'an and Sam were headed to their classes, so it was easy to pull them aside so he could explain their situation.

They weren't happy, and he wasn't surprised. Alex still wasn't happy. Knowing that the man receiving medical attention was Lorna's brother didn't make anything easier. Quicksilver, Peter, whatever his name was or had been, was still an asshole. Just like every other member of the Brotherhood, he was selfish and blind. It was plain to see that him and his sister had already learned the art of using people and then discarding them that Magneto had mastered.

"Guys, it's not a good situation," he said, "I know that, but it's almost over."

"You should've woken us up," said Xi'an.

"It was three on three down there," said Alex, "And Quicksilver was pretty badly injured."

"Still should've woken us up," Xi'an said.

"Ah'm with Xi'an," said Sam, "What if somethin went wrong?"

Several somethings had gone wrong, but it wasn't the type of wrong that they were thinking of. At the time he'd been so busy trying to figure everything out that he'd thought better of actually getting Xi'an and Sam.

Alex tried to visualize the events of the night before with the two of them there. Internally, he shuddered.

"Look, we'll talk about this more later, I promise," he said, "But it's getting late. Xi'an, you're gonna hafta take over Lorna's class this morning. I'll relieve you in the afternoon and take over from there."

"Why aren't you covering all her classes?" asked Xi'an, "That's what you said yesterday evening-"

"Yesterday evening we didn't have three assholes in the basement," Alex said, "I know this isn't ideal, but we need to do what we can."

Sam laughed ruefully.

"Why couldn't y'all have set up a place where we do somethin other than teach?" he said, "Gets so darn complicated."

"I know, right?" said Alex.

He shook his head.

"Come on guys. I have to meet Scott for breakfast and then walk him to his class," he said, "Let's just pull together on this one."

Xi'an rolled her eyes in irritation and strode off to Lorna's class. Sam just gave him a half-hearted shrug and walked into the cafeteria. Alex followed shortly after, blinking back sleep and figuring that he would get another cup of coffee with breakfast. It needed to be black.

Thankfully, it wasn't difficult to spot Scott. His cousin was staring into his oatmeal, Ororo sitting next to him. She was making tentative attempts at conversation, but Scott wasn't answering. Alex poured himself a cup of coffee and began walking over, trying to figure out what to say to him.

He was so preoccupied that he nearly ran into Hank. His friend started, looking disoriented. Alex put a hand on his shoulder to balance him.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Fine. Just a little tired," Hank said.

"You had a long night," said Alex, "We need to get you your own coffee machine."

It was light talk, dodging the subject at hand. There were too many people listening.

"I'll see if there's room in the budget," Hank said, "Could you do me a favor?"

"Depends," said Alex, "I need to go and talk to my cousin before he goes to his classes."

"You can do this after," Hank said, "I was wondering if you could go tell Lorna her classes are taken care of today."

Alex frowned.

"Didn't you tell her that yesterday?" he asked.

"No. I was going to, but things got in the way," said Hank, "I just want her to know that it's all taken care of."

He opened his mouth for a minute, perhaps looking like a gaping fish. He wanted to ask Hank if he was sure, but it was Hank. He would be sure about something like that.

"Right," Alex said, "I'll talk to her later."

Hank gave him a grateful look and then headed for the coffee machine. For a moment Alex stared straight ahead. Logically, he supposed that Lorna might not be able to remember everything that had happened yesterday because of the stress. She might have lied to cover herself, to make her seem like she was more together than she was.

That all fell apart when he realized that it was Lorna he was talking about. He went over the conversation in his head, and then suddenly realized something else that had gone wrong: she hadn't asked about her mother.

An uneasy feeling started in his gut, and his grip on his coffee cup increased. He supposed that he could just brush it under the rug, but the last time he'd felt that uneasy feeling was when he was introduced to Lieutenant Stryker. He'd ignored it, and he'd nearly been dissected.

He took a deep breath and walked over to Scott. Yes, he certainly would be talking to Lorna later.


	3. Chapter 3

The room had fallen silent after Wanda had stormed off. Charles had watched her go, head her slam the door and Peter call after her. He had often wondered why they hadn't come to him, why they had thought that bringing a young child with them into a war zone would be safer. Now they knew.

Upstairs Charles heard the distant ringing of a bell. He supposed that was the breakfast bell. His school was waking up somewhere, oblivious to the events that had transpired below ground, the misery, the pain.

He should go now, try to make sure that things ran smoothly during that day. Charles knew that it was the right thing to do, the sensible thing, and yet he felt no inclination to do so. Alex could probably make sure that things ran well. Even on two hours of sleep Alex was a formidable force.

Next to him Erik gazed at his son, a peculiar expression on his face. The expression hadn't moved since they had walked into the room, hadn't moved even when Charles had dismissed Hank. He'd had the feeling that even Hank's doctoring wouldn't be useful for the injuries that were paining Peter now. At least this way Hank could get some semblance of rest, of order.

For his part, Peter had lapsed into silence. He was staring at the ceiling as though someone had hit him with a baseball bat, his eyes wide awake and his mouth parted slightly. Charles wondered yet again if he should be there. He had no claim to this small family outside of the welfare of Magda and Lorna. Neither of them were in the room now, and the events that had transpired were between the twins.

He supposed that he should speak or leave. It wasn't likely that his presence was welcome, and what could he even say? Wanda had just told her brother, the last tie to Peter's old life that was still with him, that he disgusted her. Charles doubted there was anything that could make that better.

However, he still felt frozen. No matter how hard he tried, there was that prickle of responsibility. Yes, Logan had been the one to point him in Peter's direction, say that they use his skills to break into the Pentagon. He'd protested against using a minor, but Logan had settled the matter by asking how young Hank and Alex were when they'd become X-men. Charles wondered if he knew Hank and Alex in the future, because the question seemed frustrated and bitter. Maybe they hadn't made it.

So he'd acquiesced, but Charles had been uneasy about what would happen afterwards. It was why he hadn't hesitated in giving the young deviant his phone number, told him to call if he ever had any problems. He might not have been the Professor at the time, but he'd known that he would have been able to do something to help him.

It had been in vain though. Peter had made his choice when he decided to look for Erik instead of calling that number, instead of asking for help, if not for himself, than at least for his little sister. He'd wanted to pursue his own desires without thought of the consequences and keep his family together. While one was understandable, the other was selfish beyond measure. When it came down to it, it really was his fault.

But being logical had never helped him in dealing with the guilt in the past, and he knew that it wouldn't now. So he stayed, frozen to the spot, right next to Erik, just staring at the man in front of them.

"Why?" Erik said.

Peter's eyes slid over to him, unfocused and despairing.

"What?" he asked.

"Why?" Erik repeated, "Why did you choose me?"

"Are you complaining?" asked Peter.

His voice was cold, and it reminded him sharply of Erik when he'd been younger.

"Don't be childish," said Erik, "Why me? I need to know this Peter."

"Just shut up," Peter said.

"I think that you've lost the right not to talk about anything," Erik said, "Because for the past few years I was under the impression that, at least in the beginning, your sister believed as fervently as you did. Lorna was another matter: she was a child. We came to that realization rather late, but it was something that I took for granted, just like your sister's devotion."

"It made sense," snapped Peter.

"Did it?" Erik asked.

Peter pushed himself up, his eyes angry.

"So you're taking her side too now?" he demanded, "After everything?"

"I want to understand," Erik said.

"I seriously doubt that," snorted Peter, "Just leave me alone."

"It's far too late for that," Erik said.

This time, when Peter snorted, it seemed more tired anyway.

"What the hell do you care anyway?" Peter said, "It's my family, my life that I've screwed up. I never needed any help from you for that."

Erik stared at him, and Charles could see that he desperately wanted to say something. He wanted to tell Peter that he was his father, that it mattered a great deal what he did with his life and the issues that his family faced.

But now wasn't the time, and Charles could see that Erik knew that. This wasn't how he wanted to tell his children, with one upstairs, one isolating herself, and a third in despair. He wanted it to be different.

"I gave up Lorna because I thought I was doing the right thing," said Peter, "I let her go because that's what she wanted. But...I could've maybe, maybe I..."

He gritted his teeth together.

"Screw it," he said, "I lost Lorna, but I can't lose Wanda too."

His words weren't directed at anyone that Charles could see, but the plea was still there.

"You haven't lost Wanda. And I don't think you've lost Lorna either," said Charles.

Speaking was, perhaps, not the best thing. Peter's furious eyes were looking in his direction. He didn't even want to think about how Erik was looking at him.

"What would you know about it old man?" snarled Peter.

The comment was hitting below the belt: Charles wasn't even fifty yet. However, the tone was familiar enough. He thought of the way Lorna had spoken to him the first night she had come to him, curled up on her window seat. It had lacked the venom in Peter's voice, but the underlying theme was similar enough.

"I have a sister," said Charles, "I haven't seen her in nine years."

Now he knew Erik was looking at him.

"I have no idea where she is or what she's doing," said Charles, "I don't know if she forgives me for why we parted, or if she forgives herself. I don't even know how she feels about everything that happened."

"Then how do you know I haven't lost them?" snapped Peter.

Charles folded his hands in his lap.

"Because I don't think I've lost my sister," he said, "I think she's coming back."

Peter laughed bitterly.

"Or maybe you're just really deluded," he said.

"Perhaps, but I don't think I am," said Charles.

"Oh yeah?" Peter demanded, "Then why do you think she hasn't come back yet?"

Charles smiled sadly.

"I think she isn't ready to talk," he said, "But I'll wait for her. I'll wait forever if I have to."

* * *

Mystique clutched the phone tightly. She bit her lip and looked over her shoulder. The phone booth was remote enough that it couldn't be tracked, but she had never gotten out of the habit of being nervous when making these calls. Even with someone watching her back, it seemed like it was unlikely that things would improve much.

The phone continued wringing and Mystique began tapping the glass impatiently. She needed them to pick up. She let out a sigh of relief when there was a click on the other end. Finally.

"Hallo? Szardos residenz."

"It's me," Mystique said.

There was a harsh breath on the other end.

"You are only vone who answers like that. Vhy?"

"Because I'm not saying my name," Mystique said, "Margali, is Kurt nearby?"

Margali sighed on the other side of the phone. Mystique knew that Margali didn't like her, not since she'd learned that she was a member of the Brotherhood, but she'd been Azazel's best friend growing up. Even though she violently hated what it was that Azazel was doing, the people he was with, she was still fiercely loyal to him.

With Erik in prison and the rest of the Brotherhood dead, Mystique hadn't known where else to go when she'd discovered she was pregnant. She probably should have just gone to Charles, and she still wondered why she hadn't. Had it just been her pride? Probably, and it was probably that pride that still kept her away from him. That or the crushing sense of guilt.

She couldn't decide which.

"Ja. He is outside playing with mien daughter," she said, "Vant me to call him in?"

"Not this time," said Mystique.

There was a pause.

"He asks about you you know."

Mystique closed her eyes.

"I know," she said, "I just...I can't talk to him right now. I won't be able to stay on long. How's he doing?"

"Fine. Eats vegetables. Stephan used to have him eat his until Jimaine told me," she said, "He ist very obedient. Unless it comes to bedtime or baths or somezing like zat."

"I'm glad," said Mystique, "Do you need anything?"

There was another pause.

"Margali," Mystique said.

"I did not sign up for zis," said Margali.

"You said you'd take him in," Mystique said.

"Ja, and you said zat I vould nefer see or hear from you again," said Margali, "But now, I am some zort of baby-sitter for your son."

"He's Azazel's son too," Mystique said.

She always brought that up whenever Margali started talking like this.

"Ja, und he should be vith his mutter," Margali said.

"It's just a little longer," said Mystique, "Just another few months."

"You haf said zat for a long time," Margali said, unimpressed, "Vhat are you vaiting for?"

Mystique squeezed her eyes shut.

"I'll call again next week," she said, "I'll talk to Kurt then."

"Right," Margali said, derision dripping from her voice, "You do zat zen. Auf wiedersehen."

The phone went dead. Mystique sighed and hung it up. She shoved her hands in her pockets and got into the passenger seat of the car, staring straight ahead.

"How's yer boy?"

"Fine," Mystique said tightly, "I'm not going to do this for much longer you know. If we don't find her in a month, then you're on your own."

The man next to her stiffened.

"Yer fault she's gone."

"Your fault for not listening to me," she shot back, "And if you really believed it was my fault, how come I'm still alive?"

She received a sullen look and a jolt when the car started.

"If that's what you think, then why're you still here?"

She looked down. After everything that had happened over nine years, it seemed strange that answer would be difficult. There was a strange urge in her now though, something telling her that

"Because maybe I understand what it is to want to make amends for your mistakes," she said.

"That why ya haven't gone back ta yer brother?"

Mystique glared at him.

"Don't you ever, ever mention my brother again," she said, "Not like this. One month, and then I'm gone."

"Fine."


	4. Chapter 4

Lorna's eyes looked around her for her room. She figured she'd taken just about every bit of cash that she could find. Lorna wasn't the type to hide lots of money. The girl probably trusted in banks, was saving up for something silly like a house or something. Stupid girl.

She'd found around $100, which wasn't ideal, but it was enough. It should be enough to get her to her rendezvous point. She only had a few hours to make sure that everything worked.

She rolled her shoulder. She'd noticed the injury the night before but, of course, couldn't feel the damn thing. After Alex had mentioned she should rest for a while, she'd actually done that. Bodies tended to wear out quickly, and she hadn't exactly gotten this one in mint condition.

Again, she didn't have much time, but she figured she had enough. All she had to do was avoid people for the next few hours. They were already noticing things off about her. Thank goodness she'd snatched someone who was emotionally unstable. The people here were sharp, but they were very considerate. It was the only window of opportunity that she needed.

Now all she had to do was wait until after the classes were over. It was definitely the weirdest school that she'd ever seen, but she wasn't going to risk discovery by exploring. Lorna was supposed to be resting, and she had to play the part.

She walked to the bathroom and examined her face again. The freaky green eyes were slightly bloodshot, but she figured it had come from the girl's tears. Her teeth still seemed fine, which was odd, because some sign of decay should have set in around the gums. Maybe Lorna was sturdier than she'd expected.

Smiling to herself she opened the bathroom cupboard. There were the usual medicines, which was great. She took out a few and began grinding them together. It was coarser than she would've liked, but it would be easy enough to fix that over the next half hour or so.

There was a knock on the door. She swore and quickly cleaned up the mess around the bathroom sink.

"Coming!" she called.

She walked to the front door and opened it. An older woman was there, looking tired. She quickly tried to figure out who the hell this woman was. Her mind flicked through the pictures in Lorna's room. There were one or two of her with this older woman. When she took in the woman's face, the similarities between her and Lorna's, she figured that this was her mother.

Great.

"Hey sweetheart," she said, "I...I wondered if we could talk."

She looked down, trying to look regretful. Lorna had obviously had a hard night, and usually that worked with people. However, she had the feeling that it hadn't quite jived with Alex's view of Lorna. Sinister had warned her that these people might be perceptive.

"I know it's been difficult," her mother said, "But...it might help to talk."

Her eyes flicked over Lorna's mother. She was in a heavy state of distress, her make-up smudged and her eyes haunted.

_Who?_ she thought, _Her or you? Do you just want to phrase it like she'd like it because you don't want to be the selfish one? How idiotic._

However, slamming the door on the woman would look suspicious. Lorna had sounded like a real sweet person, and she couldn't have too many people thinking something was wrong. They might start talking together, and she'd been in those situations before.

"Come in," she said.

Lorna's mother nodded and came in. She sat down on the edge of the bed, looking around nervously. Good grief, she hadn't thought this through, had she? With another look at Lorna's mother, she closed the door and leaned up against it.

"I wish we could've told Alex in a better way about everything," she said, "I never wanted things to be difficult for you."

Tell him what? The mystery thickened.

"And I'm sorry for being down there," she said, "I knew that they wouldn't want me, and I knew you trusted them but...too much happened when you were younger."

Had this woman come for some sort of validation? She really didn't have time to deal with people like this. Even if she hadn't been possessing this woman's daughter, then she figured that she would dislike her. There was some sort of holier-than-thou aura that these people pushed off.

Now though, now the woman expected her to say something.

"It's okay," she said, "It...things got a little out of control. Nothing we really could have done about that."

"But there was," her mother said, "You always forgive everything, and you shouldn't have to."

She shrugged in response. Was this Lorna some sort of emotional martyr? Ugh.

"Sometimes we have to make sacrifices," she said.

Her mother got up and put a hand on Lorna's face.

"But they shouldn't be yours," she said.

Her touch made her want to shudder. Good grief, skin felt so weird sometimes. She shrugged again and she thought she saw Lorna's mother's brow crease. Being Lorna was probably the most difficult mission she'd been on.

Unlike other people, these people actually might be able to figure out what was going on.

"I'd like to be alone for a little bit," she said, "Can we just...talk about it later?"

Her mother blinked and removed her hand.

"Yes," she said, "I...that's...that's your choice."

She nodded, feeling a little grateful that had worked. She forced herself to put a hand on Lorna's mother's shoulder and steer her out into the hall. When she opened the door, she saw Alex at the other end of the hall.

He was looking at her strangely, his eyes going from her mother to her. She ducked her head when she saw him, but not before she saw suspicion flash in his eyes. She stepped away from Lorna's mother and closed the door.

Immediately, her mind went to the pills she'd been grinding in the other room. It looked like she'd have to move her timetable up.

* * *

Alex watched as the door to Lorna's room closed. Magda spotted him and ducked her head. It was a motion that he'd come to expect from her. She was still adjusting to the world that she had gone into, and she'd just had some unwelcome reminders of her past.

It was not something that he expected of Lorna. One of the things he'd loved about her was that she'd always faced problems head on. She'd never tried to hide from them, and it was rare that she couldn't meet his eyes. Perhaps he was reading into these things too much, but he'd added the head ducking to the odd behaviors.

The latest was what he'd just noticed. Lorna had rather unceremoniously dumped her mother in the hall, without so much as a goodbye. Magda was obviously distraught, and he doubted that she would just dump her like that.

He needed to find out what had happened in that room. So, trying to keep his face as though he didn't think that anything was wrong with Lorna, he walked up to Magda. Her eyes were wide whens he saw him, and a little shy. The past few years had created cracks in her that she'd never quite been able to fill by herself.

"Hey," he said, "I was wondering if everything was alright."

She nodded, her eyes flicking to the door.

"Lorna just doesn't want to talk right now,' she said, "That's all. I can't blame her after last night."

He inclined his head. No need to worry her with what he was thinking. Alex made a gesture to the other end of the hallway, and the two started walking.

"She's been acting off all day," he said.

"Not really surprising," Magda said.

"I suppose not," said Alex, "It was a long night."

Magda shrugged. He wondered if she was too upset about the night before to notice if anything was wrong with her daughter. Alex wished she could just tell him something, anything that would help him cooberate what he was thinking, but he couldn't just outright ask.

He'd have to try and be sneaky.

"Just, never seen her quite like this before," he said.

"Me either," said Magda, "Not since she was little."

Bingo. That had actually been easier than he'd thought.

"She never used to isolate herself like this," said Magda, "Even when she didn't come to me, she would go to one of her siblings."

"Hm," Alex said.

Magda looked at him then, and he suddenly realized how that sounded.

"Alex, I know she was going to tell you," she said, "And I know that it couldn't have been fun having to deal with all of our dirty laundry-"

"Magda, can I stop you there?" he said.

While this particular information wasn't part of his suspicions, it needed to be said. Magda was obviously worried. She probably didn't want Lorna's life ruined by her siblings any more than it already had been. The feeling was mutual, but, again, Alex didn't know the whole story there.

He'd ask Lorna, but his suspicions were already starting to point him in a direction that he didn't like. He'd have to be damn sure of it, so he'd have to find a way to prove it. He didn't want to add 'having an asshole boyfriend' to the list of Lorna's problems.

This though, this he could take care of.

"I want you to know that I don't care where a person's come from," he said, "I don't care about their pasts, only how they plan to spend their future. Lorna's past with her siblings, it shocked me, but it doesn't change anything between us."

"And...how are things between you?" Magda asked tentatively.

Alex paused, and swallowed. He hadn't expected to get an interrogation from her mother, but it was something he would have to answer it sooner or later. Hank and Charles had a way with words, but he didn't. He'd have to settle for blunt truth.

"I love her," he said.

Magda started and stared at him.

"I know it hasn't been that long, not even a year, but I love your daughter," Alex said, "I've never met anyone like her before, and I can tell you that my intentions towards her are honest, if that's what you want to hear."

For the first time in hours, Magda smiled. She wagged a playful finger.

"Now Alex, she's only twenty-one," she said, "Don't go marrying her too soon."

Alex chuckled.

"I don't think we're quite there yet," he said, "So you don't have to worry about that for a while. I'm not going to marry someone I've only known for a few months, and I don't think Lorna is either."

Magda nodded in approval. He felt that now wasn't the time for him to tell her that he thought the two of them were rapidly headed down that road. Alex had never had someone understand things the way Lorna had.

"I'm glad that you love her," Magda said, "She needs more love in her life."

He gave her a sad smile in response, and thought of the woman a few doors down. Yes, he did love her. And remembering that made him all the more determined to figure out what was going on.


	5. Chapter 5

Wanda knew that she couldn't stay behind the locked door forever. She wasn't a damsel in distress, she knew that she would need to get out for something sooner or later, as bitter as the thought was.

The minute she left the room she would have to face her liar brother and the asshole who had, more or less, encouraged him. Her only real option was to breeze past them as icily as possible and ask Xavier where Lorna was. She wasn't sure she trusted him very much, but at least he'd know where to find Lorna.

What was she going to tell her though? Lorna had spent the last four years, almost five, on her own, knowing that her ideology was counter to theirs and probably feeling rejected. Looking back on how she'd left the room, Wanda wasn't sure that Lorna would ever want to talk to them again. That would be her right.

Wanda put her hand over her mouth. Oh God, what had they done? She'd known that they were doing something wrong when they left her behind, but she had blindly believed that she couldn't separate herself from the Brotherhood. If only she'd taken that step, cut her ties and gone to her sister, then something could have been salvaged.

And she thought of her mother too. Her feelings there were a little more conflicted. Wanda hadn't liked being told she was different growing up, having it highlighted at every possible turn. Lorna had been coddled, at least in that situation. She'd been her father's favorite, and her powers were much less noticeable than Wanda and Peter's.

Even so, her mother had managed to resurrect her relationship with Lorna. It was more than Wanda could say. She remembered the night when Lorna had come into her room, waking her up and saying that there were strange men downstairs. She'd come to her for help that night. Would she do that now? Unlikely.

If she wanted to get anything done, she needed to start now. Wanda was a wanted terrorist, and Xavier wouldn't want her hanging out any more than he needed her to. It's not like he would let her stay at Westchester now. She wasn't a teenage runaway anymore: she was a wanted woman with considerable kills under her belt.

So she needed to use all the time that she could get. Wanda didn't know what was going to happen next though. Now that she was thinking logically, if she left the Brotherhood, then she would have no protection anymore. There were a lot of people who would like to get their hands on her, and if she was captures and not part of the Brotherhood, then no one would come and rescue her.

But if she stayed, then she was recommitting her life to a lie and to eternal separation from her sister, the last family she could trust. It felt like she was blindfolded and trying to climb the stairs. One misstep, and she would tumble down.

Either way, she was running out of time. She had to get out there, had to be that ice, because she was too angry and too proud to crumble in front of her brother. She had trusted him, and he had betrayed her. There were no words for how that felt after everything they had been through together, all because of him.

She'd stopped crying though, so at least that was a start. Wanda wiped her eyes with her sleeves. She knew that her mascara was smeared, and she hated herself for wearing it. It had been a hang-over from the day before, something she'd put on when she'd thought her life made sense.

In the end, her whole life had been as fragile as a house of cards. All it took was a breath of air, a slight touch, to destroy it. That breath of air had been Peter, and again, there was that resentment. So much of it was her fault for being blinded, as Lorna had been by love. The only difference between her and Lorna was that Lorna had been strong enough, smart enough, to break free. She was just weak.

But now she had to be strong, so she cleaned up as best as she could and opened the door. Her brother, Magneto, and Xavier were still in the room, and they all looked up when she walked in. Peter, in particular, looked as though she was a life preserver in a stormy ocean.

Wanda clenched her fist and walked forward, ignoring him.

"Wanda," Peter said.

She didn't answer. Instead she looked at Xavier.

"I was wondering if you knew where my sister was," she said, "And, if possible, fi you could let her know that I want to talk to her."

"Wanda," Peter repeated.

"I will," Xavier said, his entire being the very definition of discomfort, "As I've said before, I can't really ensure-"

"I know," Wanda said, "But I would like you to ask her. Her and my mother."

"At the same time?" said Xavier.

"Wanda," Peter pleaded.

Xavier was looking at him, but she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction.

"No. My mother first actually," said Wanda, "I'll continue being a coward and have the easy conversation first."

She turned around and head back to the room she'd been in, but Peter grabbed her wrist. Wanda stopped, but didn't look at him.

"Wanda, it wasn't meant to be like this," he said, "This isn't what I wanted."

Her decision not to speak broke, and, not looking at him, she spoke.

"Isn't it what you wanted?" she asked, "You were the one who wanted to be a member of the Brotherhood. You were the one who wanted to be Magneto's right hand. The way I see it, you got exactly what you wanted."

"That's not all I wanted though!" Peter protested, "I wanted you and Lorna too. Don't you remember how I wanted her to stay with us when the Brotherhood started? Don't you remember?"

She let out a shuddering breath.

"Yes, I remember that Peter," she said, "And I remember what else you said. You said that if I really believed we shouldn't have left her, we'd go back to the school."

This time Wanda did look at him, and the desperation in his eyes only made her angrier.

"But I never told you that I didn't believe you," Wanda said, "And that's why I didn't ask to go back. Because I didn't want to test that. I was too scared."

She jerked her hand away.

"But right now?" she said, "I'm not scared anymore."

The hurt etched deep on his face, just like she wanted it to. It was a lie: she didn't know how she felt towards him other than betrayed. If she really wanted him out of her life, than she had the feeling that she would tell him to his face instead of going about it like this.

But she wanted him to hurt right now, wanted him to feel just a little of the pain that seemed to be crippling her. So she turned away and, this time, she was a little relieved that Peter didn't call after her. The sound of his voice was getting to her.

* * *

Mystique removed the floppy disk from the computer and slipped it into her briefcase. The printer was whirring away madly in the corner, and she strolled up to it. She removed the picture and got a good look at it.

It looked familiar, and that was what she'd been afraid of. He was not going to like this, but he'd gone looking for the truth. Sometimes the truth was ugly, and she thought that he would understand that.

She walked with her head held high, her heels clicking on the floor. Even though heels had started making their way into her life more and more, she really hated them. They were difficult to morph and downright painful. They were, however, very painful when she kicked someone in the face though. It was the only real reason she kept wearing them.

Mystique walked out of the building, readjusting her paperwork and getting into the car. It took off the minute she closed the door.

"Gettin tired of being your damn chauffer."

She let out a breath through her nose. While the man beside her was a good friend, nothing had been the same since he'd found those residual files. At first she had been completely supportive, but as time went on, she realized that the mission was more about him than it was about their target. The end result might have been good, but there was bigger fish to fry out there, and the motivation was actually rather selfish.

While she could still sympathize, the last time she had let herself be ruled by those principles she had, apparently, nearly set off a cataclysmic chain of events. Hopefully this wasn't going to turn out to be the same thing.

At least the goal this time wasn't to kill someone.

"Would you rather put on the skirt and impersonate the secretary?" Mystique asked.

"Dunno," he said, "I think I cut a damn fine figure in yellow."

There was a slight chuckle in his voice. Mystique allowed herself a small smile in response. She had the feeling that nothing good would come of their current path, and the files in her folder seemed to support that theory, but the man next to her was someone she considered a friend.

"What did ya find?" he asked.

The smile fell off her face. She cleared her throat and pulled out the photo.

"We have photographic evidence," she said, "I think it's her."

His grip increased on the steering wheel.

"Is she with-?"

"Yes."

She had to cut him off. Mystique knew how much it pained him to say the names. They knew too much bout what those names meant to be comfortable connecting them to people they cared about.

"Do you want to see?" Mystique asked, trying to keep her voice gentle.

"Not now."

She sighed. It was the same kind of "not now" that she often told Margali when she asked if she wanted to come Kurt to come to the phone. There was a complete desperation, a need, but there was also the knowledge that it wasn't practical.

God, she hated that she thought like that.

"Got a location?" he asked.

"Yes," she said.

Right," he said, "Thanks for all yer help, but ya can go see yer boy now. Didn't even take a month."

Mystique bowed her head, her fingers trembling a little on the envelope. Yes, she wanted to see Kurt. He was going to turn eleven in a few weeks. She wanted to see him so much it ached, to sing him happy birthday and let him know that, despite her absences, she did love him. Mystique wanted to take him back from Margali and, maybe, get the courage to introduce him to his uncle.

But there was work to be done before she could do that.

"I found something else though," she said, "I don't think this is just your problem anymore."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning I think Emma Frost hacked into the files of one of my friends a week or so ago," she said, "The ones that I was specifically trying to keep hidden. It's not good if she's looking into him."

He stared sullenly ahead, and Mystique wondered if she should've phrased that better. Not for the first time, she wished she had Charles's ability with words.

"What does your friend do?"

"He's a P.E. teacher," Mystique said.

"Then why does she care?" he asked.

She sighed.

"Because, in my world, a teacher is never just a teacher," she said.


	6. Chapter 6

Peter wondered if this was the worst day of his life. Up until this point, he'd pegged the worst twenty-four hours as either the day that he'd come in with Killbrew's blood on him and told his sisters that he wasn't going to talk about it, and the day Lorna told them that she wouldn't go back with them.

He'd been wrong, unless there was somehow a worse day somewhere down the road. He couldn't see how though. The pain in his foot was slowly starting to subside, but he wasn't sure if he'd be doing any running on it for a long time. Magneto was in the next room, perhaps wondering what exactly he was going to do with his two crazy agents. Peter figured it was a legitimate question.

Hank was somewhere in the room, and Xavier was still seated by his bedside. He was sure that Wanda was going to be talking to their mother soon too. Maybe Lorna soon after. At least she'd be talking to someone.

Wanda wouldn't talk to him now, he could see that. And he hated, absolutely hated the way that Xavier was looking at him. There was such empathy there that it made Peter want to hurl. What if he had made the decision to stay there, to go to Xavier instead of Magneto? Would he be a teacher now?

He winced. He wouldn't make a good teacher. If he was though, he'd probably have an intact family. Hadn't that been all that mattered when he was seventeen and stupid? He'd taken on the job at the Pentagon for the thrills, not the political motivation. At the end of the day he'd thought it would be a great story to laugh with Wanda about, to embellish for Lorna. He hadn't done it because he'd believed in the mutant cause.

It was selfish, but it was also very him. His world had been a series of petty thefts, wisecracks, and spending time with his sisters. There had been worries, he hated his mother, hated the way people looked at his premature gray hair, at so much. But he had been able to brush those off, even with Wanda telling him that they needed to be careful about what they were.

Thefts, wisecracks, his sisters. It had been just that simple. But as soon as he'd seen Magneto on the TV, he'd felt something stirring inside him. It had been the feeling that, maybe, he should be doing more. He'd shoved Lorna off his lap then, but she had been in his thoughts later. His little sister was going to grow up in a world that hated him. It was a world that Wanda was going to have to deal with too, that would, sooner or later, affect them.

And that had been where it had started: his sisters. He closed his eyes. At one point that had mattered more than anything else. He'd just wanted things to be better for them, for all of them. That had been his sole motivation.

So why was he laying here, nine years later, without either of them? Obviously he'd done something wrong. He couldn't pinpoint where it was but, if Wanda was to be believed, it had been when he'd made the decision to go to the Brotherhood without telling her there was another choice.

He snorted to himself. He thought Hank stirred next to him, maybe wondering if he was having trouble breathing. Peter wasn't sure, he couldn't be sure without opening his eyes, so he was going to have to take this one on faith.

Peter waved him away, and he heard him settle. So he'd been right. Even though he was sure that Hank had punched him in the stomach several times and possibly once in the face, Peter had been running very fast at the time, he was still trying to take care of him now.

No wonder Lorna had loved it here. There seemed to be a strange set of morals here, one that didn't quite jive with reality. At the same time, it seemed like the school's inhabitants understood that it didn't quite work, that other people wouldn't understand them. They just didn't seem to care about that.

At one time he'd have called that naïve. Now, after what Lorna had spat at them, now he wondered. She wasn't stupid, and she wasn't naïve. She understood things all too well, and she was anything but week. Maybe what they had at the school was a different kind of strength.

Lorna had accused them of never being able to let her grow up, but he wasn't sure that was true. She'd always wanted to be a princess when she was little, one from her stories. He'd played with her often enough, seen how much she loved the princess gowns their mother, and then Wanda, had sewn for her. It had been something she'd given up after they'd gone on the run. Princess gowns weren't really something that runaways had a lot of.

But even as a disinterested teen he'd noted that she wasn't really interested in Rapunzel though. She was more interested in Tolkien's works, in worlds where epic struggles between good and evil had played out. Peter wondered if she still read those books now that she had participated in one. She'd probably given them up, perhaps seeing them as unrealistic.

Tears rolled down his cheeks. He hoped she hadn't. He hoped she still read Tolkien and wasn't disgusted with her younger self. And it wasn't because he didn't want her to grow up, and it wasn't because he wanted to keep her trapped in a fantasy world.

Peter had just wanted her to stay innocent, to be better, to have a better life. When they'd run away from home, she'd been the only one who hadn't already been a little screwed up inside. She'd been loyal to a fault, and so very young, but she hadn't been screwed up. Just timid.

And then they had taken her to the Brotherhood. Wanda was upset about losing Lorna, thinking it was the worst thing they could have done. Peter didn't agree. Losing Lorna was nothing compared to having been the ones to ruin what she had been, to take away that innocence and screw her up beyond recovery.

It wasn't as though it mattered: it looked like he had done both. And it looked like he'd managed to lose Wanda in the bargain too, and somehow that felt almost as bad. They had been together for so many years that it felt like a stab in the back when she'd laid into him. It was one he deserved, but still.

The tears felt too hot, too thin as they flowed down his face. Peter hated it because he knew Xavier and Hank were watching and not doing anything, because they were good guys, and good guys didn't force comfort on someone where no comfort could be given.

"I hate you Xavier," he choked out, "I hate you so much."

Xavier remained quiet. Peter had no idea what was going on in his head.

"You got the last seven years with her," Peter said, "You got to be...you got to be..."

"What did I get to be?" asked Xavier.

His voice was soft and curious, so understanding. Peter breathed in harshly.

"You got to be the family she deserved," he said, "The family they both deserved."

"That's not how that works," said Xavier.

"But it's true, so just shut up," Peter said.

Xavier didn't say anything else, so he was either letting him be or agreeing with him. It didn't matter though. What did matter was that the tears were coating his face and he couldn't do anything about it, couldn't go back in time and fix things.

But, even as he sat there, drenched in his own tears, Peter knew there were some things he could do. And it was going to start with him bearing any residual pain in his foot, and any fear in his heart, and going upstairs.

He just needed to get a little better and take a chance. It wasn't like he could possibly ruin things any more than he already had.

* * *

"So, what is your plan exactly?" asked Emma.

He didn't turn around to look at her when she spoke, which was very, very annoying. Her mother had given her several techniques to use in case she was ever in a position of power, and Emma believed that she could use them rather well. Her mother had never intended for her to stay in Alaska her entire life, the supposed daughter of a hardware store owner and the sister of a teacher.

The first one she had minded: the father her mother had picked out for her had been dim. At the age of seven, her mother had told her that the best men were like attack dogs: dumb to the core, but loyal and strong. She'd picked that sort of man to believe that Emma was he and his wife's second daughter.

The second she hadn't minded. Kayla hadn't liked that her parent's memories had been tampered with, but she had liked her little sister. Even though her mother was uneasy that she couldn't change Kayla's memory, she had come to respect her over the years. Kayla had loved Emma unconditionally, and her mother had approved.

And then Stryker had taken them both from her. Now, years later, he had yet to pay for it. The man in front of her had made a very particular promise to her, that she would have her revenge. Thus far, Emma hadn't seen any evidence of this.

"You have all of the chemicals you need," she said, "I've made sure of that. Now, what are you planning on doing with them?"

He still didn't answer. Emma sighed. There were times she felt a prickle of uneasiness in her new life. A few years ago, she wouldn't have dreamed of imitating her mother. Her mother had been sharp, yes, but she had still been killed by Stryker. Her lifestyle hadn't been one that Emma had wanted, and she'd considered becoming a teacher like her sister. Not an elementary school teacher, she couldn't stand small children, but she figured she would do well as a high school teacher.

But life had already had a plan for her, one that it was intent on her following. After Kayla's death, as well as the death of her lover, in an attempt to rescue her, Emma had realized that there were two types of people in the world: the people who were for her, and those that were against her. Her mother had been fond of saying it, she just hadn't taken it to heart before then.

Her mother's old contacts at the Hellfire Club had been only too happy to take her in. They had been thrilled at the idea of having another telepath, and a young one too. They thought she could be bent to their will and, at first, she'd played along. She'd made the Lords Cardinal within a year, and White Queen within another year. Sometimes she felt like she was living her mother's life all over again.

Including hitching her cart to a horse with no legs. Emma's mother had picked Shaw, and she'd picked the man in front of her. Getting to Stryker had been difficult. Even a member of the Lords Cardinal didn't have the power to just make someone disappear. She could kill him, true enough, but not without it exploding in her face. Emma wasn't going to die just to kill him. Kayla wouldn't be very happy to see her so soon, and her mother would be disappointed.

She'd spent countless dollars, manpower, and lost so much time trying to kill him. It had been important to her that he die by the hands of mutants, give him a taste of the medicine he'd been inflicting on others.

Her latest attempt felt like another dead end though. Emma put her hands on her hips and shook her head. Enough was enough.

"You're a wasted investment," she said, "I'm leaving."

"You shouldn't do that," he said.

Finally, words.

"Why not?" Emma asked.

"Because," he said nonchalantly, "I'm almost finished. I'd like Alexander Summers in hand before we commence, but when we do, we're going to have a weapon that the world has never seen the like of."

"Will it kill Styker?" asked Emma.

He turned then, and smiled at her.

"Him, and everyone he's ever cared about," he replied.

Emma smiled then, ignoring the thought that, maybe, Kayla wouldn't have wanted this. Her mother would have though, and Emma had the feeling that she was going to have to channel her now. It was the only way to get the job done.

"I'd like to hear more," she said.


	7. Chapter 7

Alex had never liked espionage work. That didn't mean he wasn't good at it, he'd been very good at it with his SSR friends, but he didn't like it. He'd hated the long-term lies that went with it. He'd often preferred to just hit people, do the clean-up work, because Alex didn't like lying.

He'd been able to do it mostly because he hadn't given a damn about the people involved. They were liars and murderers and people who were content to keep their heads down and do nothing. Alex made sure he never incriminated someone who was innocent, but he didn't mind lying and being suspicious of people he had reason to be suspicious of.

But this was different. He cared about Lorna, cared about what happened if he was wrong. He'd told her he loved her, and now he was, more or less, questioning her every move. He hated that, because he knew love and trust were supposed to go hand in hand. Now he was actively investigating the woman he loved because she'd been acting funny.

It sounded like a bad joke, but it was a reality he had to accept. It hadn't even been a day since Alex had first become suspicious of Lorna, and already Alex knew exactly what he had to do, scruples be damned.

In cases like these there was a procedure he liked to follow. Normally he'd try to smooth things out a little bit, perhaps take a little more time, but he already knew that it had passed the point of no return. Not since he started wondering if the woman he loved was secretly someone else.

If he'd thought this when he was fifteen, he would've laughed at himself. But in a world with shapeshifters, Alex had quickly learned that people weren't always who they seemed. He'd seen a lot of this thing, even if it wasn't strictly mutants. Those were things he could safely avoid telling Charles, or Hank, or anyone. There was a nondisclosure agreement that he'd signed. He'd happily invalidate it for them, but there were some things he was better off not knowing.

Ignoring everything he knew was downright stupid. He'd spent thirty years building up the skills and know-how to ensure that he knew how to handle situations like these. Those instincts had kept him alive, and he wouldn't dismiss them now.

At the same time, he wasn't one hundred percent sure. What he really wanted to do was go downstairs and fetch Charles, get him to tell once and for all. There were two reasons he didn't do that though, and the first was that Charles was still watching over a highly volatile situation with the Brotherhood. Any distractions could cost them, and Alex seriously didn't trust Magneto or Lorna's siblings. Anyone who could abandon someone like Lorna and care more about arguing with their mother than the fact their family was injured were not to be trusted.

The second, and he wasn't particularly proud of this, was that it was highly embarrassing. Lorna had just been through a trying day and, if she was acting funny, she had every right too. If he was wrong, then he had the feeling that Charles, not to mention Lorna herself, would be less than happy. He didn't want to see the looks they would give him, looks that he would rightly deserve.

He didn't think he was wrong though. She was just that she was acting a little too funny, a little too forgetful, a little too detached, and that had him doubting her. In the end he was faced with a choice. He either ignored his instincts or doubted Lorna. As much as he disliked being suspicious of her, it might very well be for her own good. With that in mind, he decided to go ahead.

So he found himself at Lorna's doorstep, ready to be careful and to proceed with caution. He'd been designing a way over the past few hours to figure out for sure what was going on with her and, this way, no one had to know about his suspicions if he was wrong.

He knocked and heard muffled swearing. Dryly, he added that to the list of things that were wrong. Lorna wasn't some delicate little teenager who said "sugar" instead of swearing, but her speech was always very proper. She'd wanted to be a grade school teacher for a long time, and if you did that swearing was, more or less, off the table for most of your life.

He'd never been particularly good at that, but Lorna had a strange gift to be able to suppress that. Still, the stress was stilly a factor, and he would be an asshole if he didn't take that into account before levelling accusations.

She opened the door and gave him a quick once over.

"Something wrong?" she asked.

"Just wanted to talk," he said.

"I'm in high demand today," Lorna noted.

"Well, you're always in high demand," he said, "Just upped the ante a bit today."

She smiled at him, and his insides churned. If this really wasn't Lorna, and he was right, then that smile really, really pissed him off.

"I just wanted to talk about things with you," he said.

Lorna nodded and moved aside. Alex walked in, putting his hands in his pockets casually. She sat down on the small couch in her room, some of her papers on the table beside her. She shuffled them away and put them onto her coffee table. Some of them had fallen on the floor, and he wondered if that was why she'd sworn.

Again, she gave him that grin, and he didn't know what to think of it.

"I was trying to finish some papers tonight," she said, "I don't think that I'm doing a very good job at it."

"You've probably been distracted," Alex said.

She nodded and ducked her head. He put one of his hands, not the one close to her, on the back of the sofa. It his dominant arm away from her, and if something went wrong he could count on it. He nonchalantly tapped the back of the sofa with it, acting as natural as possible.

Suddenly, Lorna moved a little closer. Alex hesitated, and she put her hand over his left hand.

"I wanted to say that I appreciate how supportive you've been," she said, "It's meant a lot to me that you were there for me through all of that."

Guilt momentarily stabbed him, but even as the feeling crept in, he knew that it would be a bad idea to indulge. He was here for a reason, and they could talk about the issues that she'd faced growing up later. When he was sure it was actually her.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't notice the hand on his cheek at first. He blinked at her, and had just enough time to see her eyes close before she kissed him. Her lips seemed odd on his, not just a little stiff, but also tasting strange. More confirmation.

It was also highly uncomfortable. Alex immediately seized up when her lips met his, trying to figure out a way to push her away without giving himself away. Alex did not want to kiss someone other than Lorna, and all of his senses were firing off.

He abstained from deepening the kiss and gently disentangled himself from it. Lorna was giving him a puzzled look, and he lightly brushed some of her hair away from her face with his left hand. Alex cleared his throat before speaking.

"It's okay," he said, "I'm always going to be there for you."

Lorna blinked at him, and then removed her hand from his face.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked.

"I don't think I'm ready yet," she said, "I just...I'm not."

He nodded, getting ready.

"Do you wanna hear about your students today?" he asked, "A lot of them asked after you and, I dunno, normal might be good right now."

She leaned back.

"Normal would be good," she said.

Alex nodded. It was time now and, if he was right, he was going to pound the living daylights out of whoever the hell this was.

"Well, I wanted to tell you that Scott's doing okay," he said, "She's a little sad that she can't see you today, but after the accident a few days ago, she really seems to be doing better."

"I'm glad," Lorna said.

"She actually managed to finish first today in science, and I think that she's going to be helping pick out the next book for the book club," he said.

"She's a good girl," said Lorna.

She smiled at him, and he smiled back. Then, with one swift movement, he lunged forward. Immediately he pushed her back, slamming her head against the other end of the couch. When she was disoriented he grabbed her wrists, pinning them on the sofa behind her.

She tried to squirm out of his grasp, but he put a knee on her chest, pinning her there.

"Alex, what the hell?" she demanded.

"Don't you dare," he snarled, "Don't you dare call me by that name. Who are you?"

"Alex, I don't know-"

He shifted his leg so that the pressure was coming down on her ribcage. It wasn't enough to break anything, but it was enough to put this asshole to some serious inconvenience. Whoever they were, they stopped talking for a minute, their eyes following his movements.

"Now," he said, "You're going to go back to your real form right this damn minute. I'm not going to talk to you when you look like this."

"Oh, you think I'm a shapeshifter?" she asked, "That's rich. That's really rich."

He hesitated for a minute, and she laughed.

"The truth is a little more complicated Alex," she said.

As he watched, Lorna's green irises were swallowed by a pool of black. Her lips went from pale pink to that same, thick, unpleasant black. Veins seemed to web out at her neck, the dark black veins practically pulsing under her skin and forming a choker.

"The hell?" he said.

"I'm more of what you call...a possessing entity," she said, "And I would ease up on the pressure a little bit. You're leaving bruises on your girlfriend right now, and I think they have names for men like that. They're not very nice ones."

Hesitatingly he did so, but kept her pinned. His head was swimming with this information, and his breath was coming out harshly.

"I don't care what you are," he said, "Get the hell out of her."

"Unlikely," she said, "You literally can't force me out."

"The hell I can't-"

"You can't," she said bluntly, "And if you don't let me go right now, I'm going to bite through her tongue and make sure she drowns in her own blood."

Cold stabbed his heart, but he tried not to let it show. He swallowed, his throat seeming suddenly too thick.

"You wouldn't," he said.

"I would actually," she replied, "I've done it before. I don't feel any pain from these bodies. They're not mine."

She smiled, and it looked like a grotesque parody.

"She does though," she said, "Shame to waste her life on making a point, but, well, it happens."

Alex glared at her, trying to figure out what to do next. If she was right, and this was Lorna's body, he couldn't let her be harmed. But he couldn't let this thing keep inhabiting her. For all he knew, it was already harming her.

He continued glaring, his brain whirring away. Alex knew he was taking too long, knew that this thing knew how to play their cards. But for her part, she seemed unaffected. She just kept smiling at him, and it looked almost like her smile was growing with every second.

And blurring.

"The hell?" Alex said.

"Oh, it's taking effect?" she asked.

The blurring continued, and he suddenly felt a weakness in his arms. She gently pushed them off her, and pushed him onto the ground. He collapsed, nearly hitting his head on the floor. He felt like he was going to be sick.

"What did you do?" he managed.

"A drug cocktail of my own invention," she said, "I coated my lips with it. That and drank a lot, but, again, not my body, not my problem. If you'd made out with your girlfriend, like most men I've come across, this would've been easier. But no, you had to be perceptive."

Black spots swarmed his vision. He wanted to yell for someone, but it felt like his throat was clogged. She knelt down in front of him, still smiling that grotesque parody of a smile. She cocked her head.

"Doesn't really matter," she said, "But, just so you know, she's actually screaming right now. Just thought you might like to know."

He pushed himself up, trying to get up, do something, anything, but his arm gave out and he was unconscious before he hit the floor.


	8. Chapter 8

"How's my foot doc?" asked Peter.

Hank looked up at him. Peter's voice was tight and clipped. He didn't want to be there, didn't want to be talking. He did want to get out. Whether it was to run away and rejoin the Brotherhood or to go his own way, he didn't know. Hank wasn't going to ask.

He examined Peter's foot. The swelling had gone down considerably, and right now it looked as though the food had merely been burned. It seemed obvious that he was going to be alright, at least physically.

It was a relief. The last few hours had been bad. Hank had hoped, as soon as he'd seen radiation sickness in their blood, that nothing would happen to them. He didn't want that on Alex. If it had happened to Peter than it would have been bad enough, but Lorna too?

No, there would have been no coming back from that if things had taken the wrong turn. Alex was more confident than most when it came to his abilities, but it had been a long and rickety climb there. Hank knew better than anyone about how fragile that confidence could be, and how small incidents could destroy years of work. He would have felt guilty about Peter, but knowing powers similar to his had crippled or, worse, killed Lorna would most likely break him. Hank didn't even want to begin to think about what it would do to Scott.

However, it was a moot point now. Alex would keep from going over a certain temperature, and Scott would be taught to control his powers. He might not know how dangerous his powers were, not for several years at least, but the knowledge that they were dangerous would temper his use of them in the future. When he was ready, they would explain to him about the radioactive nature of his gift.

At the moment though, Hank felt like they had entered the eye of a storm. His part in the drama was rapidly drawing to a close. He was relieved that he'd been able to get both his patients out of the woods with all of the chaos that had brewed around them. He'd been on the verge of swearing several times that night, and he wasn't a swearing man. Too many years around strict parents and erudite society.

He was also glad that Alex didn't seem to harbor a lasting grudge at him for not telling him about Lorna's family. That was a secret that he'd been in no hurry to get out into the open, and if Alex had been any less of a human being, then it could have gone very wrong.

But, again, it was a moot point. Besides the obvious distress the three siblings were in, it had turned out alright. Hank was trying to be a glass half-full person in his daily life, although that was becoming increasingly difficult as he continued to patch up X-men, only to have them return night after night to his operating table. He was starting to remember why he hadn't liked being an X-man.

However, they needed a doctor, and he was going to continue in his task for as long as they needed him. It was likely that that need would be forever, but Hank was passed the point of caring. If there was a broken bone amongst them, he would be there to fix it.

Peter sat up impatiently, swinging his foot over the side of the bed.

"How's my foot doc?" he asked again.

"Better," he said.

Peter snorted.

"Are you going to elaborate?" he asked.

Again, Hank wondered just what was going on inside Peter's head. The irritating teen he'd met all those years ago had been, in a word, a teen. He'd been irresponsible and had a smart mouth and a wicked tongue, but nothing out of the ordinary.

Years with the Brotherhood had turned him bitter, as had the recent arguments with his sisters. Hank just sighed when he thought of it.

"You can't leave yet," he answered.

"Can I put weight on it?" asked Peter.

"I said you can't leave yet," Hank said.

Peter glared at him.

"I want to go to the bathroom, and I'd appreciate not having you help me when-" Peter snapped.

"Okay, okay," said Hank, holding up his hands, "You are good to walk over to the bathroom and do your business sans help."

"And my foot won't fall off?"

"No," Hank said, "Now, is there anything else you need to know?"

Peter cracked his neck.

"Nah," he said, "Probably only take me a few minutes to find her."

"What are you talking about?" asked Hank.

With a cracked grin, Peter put his hand on Hank's shoulder.

"See you in a few minutes doc," he said.

The next thing he knew, there was a woosh of air, and Peter was gone.

"Sonuvabitch," Hank said.

* * *

She looked down at Alex's body, and let out a relieved sigh. That had been close, closer than perhaps even Alex had realized. She'd known that he would be difficult to take down, which was why she'd been a little worried when he'd pulled away from the kiss so soon. It was funny, because that hadn't happened before.

For a moment tapped her chin, then shrugged. Oh well. Live and learn. She cracked her neck. Her face felt so good, not having to hide the signs of her presence. However, it was also a nuisance. Most people knew that Lorna didn't have black eyes or lips, and they definitely knew she didn't have what looked like a collar of black veins on her neck. It would take a few minutes before she could hide it again.

Now she just had to figure out what to do with the body on her floor. The drug would only last a few minutes, maybe half an hour. She wasn't sure though. He hadn't ingested a great quantity of it, and she'd been told that he was hard to take out. She hadn't had time to get any more syringes, and bashing him on the head would only infuriate her employer.

At least she'd made up an extra strong batch for him. As long as he didn't get overstimulated, too much noise, something like that, then she figured he'd be out for a while. She knelt down and examined him. At the moment, he was pretty out. Good.

Carrying him out the window wasn't Plan A, but she had the feeling that might be the only thing that would work. Lorna was actually quite strong for her build, perhaps she was a runner, but she came with her own strength. She didn't need a strong host. If joints popped and muscles pulled when she did it, it didn't really matter. Lorna would have to deal with it, not her.

She got up again and walked into the bathroom. She'd anticipated the need for some sort of restraints, and she'd been able to fashion very good ones from the towels. Just a little bit of work with scissors. She twisted them and walked back into the main room, opening the window as she went. It would make things easier later.

Cracking her neck again she got down and began tying his hands behind his back. She stiffened at the sound of the doorknob, and got ready to tell whoever wanted to comfort the little do-gooder she was possessing to go to hell.

She never got the chance. The lock was picked too quickly, and the man with white hair she'd briefly seen downstairs came in. When he spoke, the words tumbled out of his lips quickly, as though they had been fighting to get out for years.

"You have every right to hate me, and I'm sorry if I broke your door but-" he said.

Just as quickly, the words stopped.

"Great," she said, "Now I have to kill you."

* * *

Peter hadn't known what he'd expected when he went to his sister's room. He hadn't thought it out much beforehand, surprise surprise, and he'd already freaked out more than one student when their doors suddenly opened and then closed. He was too fast for them to actually see him, even if his foot was killing him.

When he'd actually found her, his words were a mess. Not that it mattered, because she was currently tying up one of her co-workers looking like she'd managed to catch the plague since he'd last seen her. Her words were the last thing he needed to know that, whoever this was, it wasn't his sister.

Which, given that he wanted to make things right between them, pissed him off.

"You can try," he said.

She began to get to her feet, and he slammed the door behind him quickly, locking it. There wasn't going to be an easy out for whoever this was. He needed to block off all exits as quickly as possible. The window was open, but he could close that in a minute. He'd already wasted too much time. He'd already given them time to get to their feet.

He grabbed what looked like a stand-alone mirror from her bureau and smashed it into her shoulder. Broken glass went flying, but it didn't look like any got embedded in her. It was weird hitting someone who looked like his sister, which made him hate the shapeshifter even more.

To his surprise, she didn't seem affected by the pain which must be threading through her. Instead she grabbed his head and jammed her skull into it. It was a lot harder than he'd expected, but he'd been taught how to work through the disorientation. Between the pain in his head and the pain in his foot, he felt like he was going to need all of that training at the moment.

He slammed his palm into her stomach, trying to knock the wind out of her. Again, she didn't seem affected. Her hand smashed into his face, and his teeth clipped his lip. Peter tasted blood and shoved away from her, trying to put a little bit of distance between them. He was going to need a running start.

She seemed to realize that just as he barreled into her, smashing the couch beneath them when they fell. His shoulders hurt, but they weren't really the problem any more. His foot had gone far past the point of feeling like it was on fire, and instead felt like it was crumbling into cinders. Peter couldn't risk putting any weight on it.

She lashed out, clawing, punching, and kicking. Blood began to fill his vision. It felt like a flurry of pain, but he managed to grab one of her hands and twist the wrist back as far as it would go. He heard the crack. Maybe that would slow her down a little.

Instead, the limb twisted in his wrist. Surprised, he let go, which allowed her to punch him. With her broken hand. More cracking filled the air. He stumbled backwards and saw her get up, her hand rolling uselessly at the end of her arm.

"I'm gonna barf," he said.

She snorted and kicked him in the face. He was dizzy from the blow, but heard the footsteps outside the door. She looked up, and he managed to get behind her. Peter locked his arms around her neck and applied pressure. Her hands scrabbled at his arms, but he held firm.

Peter hadn't done this before, and he knew there was a fine line between killing someone and knocking them unconscious, but after the day he'd had, he wasn't particularly scared of crossing it.

"Don't..."

The voice seemed weak. He looked and saw Alex struggle to get up. The pounding was getting louder, and he thought he saw the hinges on the door giving.

"You're hurting her..." Alex gasped.

"That's the idea," Peter said.

"No...hurting Lorna."

Peter frowned, and a sickening feeling started in his gut. He looked down at her, saw the way her eyes were staring forwards, almost disinterested. The sickening feeling grew worse, and he loosened his grip slightly.

She let go of his arms and slammed her elbow into his stomach. Peter gasped, the air effectively knocked out of him. He bent double and she slammed the heel of her hand into his face. He fell to the ground, struggling to remain conscious as he door's hinges began to cave. He could see Hank outside, Hank and Cannonball.

Whoever he'd been fighting saw them too. She ran to the window and, with a frustrated look at Alex, jumped out.


	9. Chapter 9

The next few minutes were very, very confusing. Alex was groggy from being drugged, and his slurred, halting explanations weren't helping. Quicksilver, or Peter, was too freaked out and pissed to be much help.

Even through the grogginess, Alex had to resist rolling his eyes. True, Peter had just broken his possessed sister's wrist and had her attempt to kill him. At the same time, Alex had just been drugged by his possessed girlfriend. Both were traumatic experiences, but if he could hold his shit together enough to keep a handle on what was going on, then Peter could too.

But, somehow, they managed to get the story out. Sam had to clear the hallway before they could leave, there were a lot of students who had been drawn by the noise. They would have to come up with a good lie for that later. At least none of them had seen Peter.

Hank had helped him downstairs. Sam had, with much more reluctance, done the same for Peter. Peter's foot wasn't doing well, and it was obvious that whatever was possessing Lorna had kicked the shit out of him. He'd obviously been able to get some good hits in though. It was why Alex had had to intervene to make sure that he didn't kill her.

Magda had come rushing down the hall on their way downstairs, shocked at the sight of them. No doubt she thought they had gotten into a fist fight, but the truth was much more unsettling. Hank had said they would explain once they were somewhere safe, and now that they were in the med-bay, he'd given her as much of the story as they could.

For most of it, Alex had just closed his eyes. Now that he wasn't getting drugged or worrying about his girlfriend, he had to start picking apart the scene. She had drugged him, but had gotten into a full out fight with Peter. The difference between the two of them was that Peter was Lorna's brother and Alex was her boyfriend. The make-out method wouldn't have worked for both of them.

But she wouldn't have known that Peter was her brother. The thing possessing Lorna hadn't even known that Scott was a boy. The odds of it knowing Lorna's complicated family history were even more slender.

As he thought, he could feel his senses returning to him. It was a slow trip, but one that he didn't quite appreciate. He'd hit the floor pretty hard, and his wrists chafed. He vaguely heard Peter explain that she'd been tying him up when he walked in. Interesting.

When he felt he'd gathered his facts together well enough to make a contribution to the conversation, he opened his eyes. Wanda had somehow found the time to get into the room, and Magda was seated, her hands in front of her mouth and her eyes closed. Magneto and Charles were there too, listening intently. Even Xi'an was there.

"I've never come across a mutant that could do that," Charles said, "Not so that it would cause her eyes to change color."

"Some new kinda telepathy?" Sam suggested.

"No," said Alex.

They turned and looked at him. He sat up. His fingertips were still a little numb and his mind slightly foggy, but he needed to start contributing. He'd taken his five minutes. now it was time to focus on the task at hand.

"Whoever this was, they didn't know certain things about Lorna, things that would make it easier for them to pretend to be her," Alex said.

"Like what?" asked Peter.

The tone was slightly belligerent. Alex sighed.

"She didn't know my cousin was a boy," he said, "I brought up his name, used the term 'she' to refer to her, and she actually did the same thing. Reason I knew something was up. Admittedly, I thought it was a shapeshifter. Right until the eye thing happened."

He rubbed his temples.

"It referred to itself as a possessing entity," Alex said, "It's why I didn't want you to hurt her. It's using Lorna's body like a puppeteer, which made fighting her hard."

"I broke her wrist," said Peter, sounding disgusted and slightly horrified.

Alex winced. He didn't think that a fighting with a member of the Brotherhood would result in a clean break. Wanda swallowed, looking a little queasy. He wondered if she was thinking the same thing.

"I nearly strangled her," Peter said.

"More evidence that she didn't know Lorna was important to you," said Alex, "When I tried to get information out of her, she threatened to bite her tongue off and have Lorna drown in her blood."

"Jesus," Wanda said.

Xi'an crossed her arms and frowned.

"Okay, I get her threatening you with that," she said, "Nothing would make you ease up faster than hearing that. Hell, I probably would've dropped her like she was plutonium."

She shook her head.

"But why would that threat make any difference for them?"

Shit. Alex cleared his throat and Wanda gave Xi'an a strange look. It was Peter who spoke up though.

"I would really, really prefer not to discuss that right now," he said, "So, let's just assume we all care whether or not something is possessing a mutant and running merry hell through the school."

Alex raised his eyebrows. That hadn't been what he was expecting.

"Fact remains, she tried to kill me," Peter said, "And, I've had that happen in the past, but I know for a fact that was her intent. So why was she just tying you up? She had the window open too when I came in."

"And you failed to close it?" snapped Alex.

The words were involuntary, but some psychopath was running around in Lorna's body. Peter gave him a nasty look.

"I got the door, and after that I was preoccupied by this weird thing trying to kill me," he said, "Sorry I can't get everything at once. Now, can we move on?"

Yes, right, right. He rubbed his temples again.

"Hank, do we have the security footage?" he asked.

"Not very much, unfortunately," said Hank, "Whoever this was had a pretty good grasp of the grounds. But it looks like they started heading into the adjoining woods."

"Right," Alex said, getting up, "Just, gimme five, and then we move out. Charles, can you-?"

"I'll head down to Cerebro," said Charles, "If something is possessing her, then it might result in an odd read. I can't guarantee that I'll be able to find her using that method."

"Just tell me if you do," Alex said.

"If you're going to Cerebro," said Xi'an, "And the X-men are going out into the woods, who's staying here with these three?"

There was a pause, and Sam sighed.

"Really all?" he asked.

"What?" asked Xi'an.

"They're not comin, with us, are they Alex?" he asked.

Alex tried to answer, but Xi'an cut him off.

"No, because that would be stupid," she said, "This isn't any of their business."

Peter cleared his throat.

"Okay, five minutes ago I mentioned the whole caring about something possessing a mutant," he said, "That registers pretty high on the Brotherhood's 'What the hell' list."

"Having you care is one thing," Xi'an said, "Having you all run around and comb our base looking for one of our teachers is completely different. Back me up here Alex."

More than anything, Alex wanted to do so. He wanted to tell Peter that, no, he didn't trust him or his sister. But he knew he couldn't. Lorna was their sister, and they couldn't afford anyone staying in the basement and babysitting them. Not with this going on.

He looked around, trying to find a way to articulate this without giving away Lorna's secret. When he did, his eyes fixed on Magda. She looked like she was crumbling in her seat, her shoulders hunched over and her short hair over her face.

It was a sight that stirred Alex deep inside. Only a few minutes before they had been talking about his future with Lorna, and now this was happening. Lorna was the only child that had come back to Magda, and now it looked like she was losing her.

He wanted to get up and put a comforting hand on her shoulder, but then he noticed the way Magneto was looking at her. There was pity there, but something else too. It was almost understanding, and it didn't make any sense.

"Alex?" Xi'an asked.

He snapped back to the sight in front of him and cleared his throat. He was just about to answer, when Wanda beat him to the chase.

"I don't care who backs you up. It's our business just as much as yours," Wanda snarled, "More in fact, so don't you dare talk about it like you know more than we do, you dime store telepath!"

Xi'an glowered.

"No," she said, "It isn't. You have nothing to do with this. Lorna is my friend, my co-worker. You never even met her before tonight. I don't know what's going on in your little witchy mind, but you don't get to come in here and barge in on everything. Just who the hell do you think you are?"

"Enough!" Charles said.

His voice was forceful and thick, but with anger bubbling just below the surface.

"Karma, you need to stand down," he said, "I understand you are concerned but this is not the way to go about it. Wanda, no matter what your relationship with the X-men, understand that you are not the only one with a stake in this."

Wanda's eyes slid over to Charles, and Alex decided that enough was enough. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and folded his hands in front of him. There were a lot of feelings fighting for dominance inside him, but he had to pick just one.

And, like Charles, he picked the detachment that would get the job done.

"Guys, can we all just dial back for a minute?" he asked, "Charles and, unfortunately, Quicksilver, is right. We need to do a systematic sweep of the woods, and the more bodies we have the better. It's just the woods, and classes are dialing down from the day. The more time we spend here arguing, the further away she gets. So can we just pull it together?"

Xi'an turned her back on Wanda.

"As you say," she said.

Sam coughed.

"Got it," he said.

"Right then," Alex said, getting slowly to his feet.

His head didn't swim when he stood up, so he figured it was okay.

"We're leaving in five," he said, "And I mean it this time."

Xi'an rolled her eyes and, with Sam close behind, left the room. Alex figured he had time to give Magda a few words of reassurance, but he made a quick stop by Wanda. Her entire stance was angry and on edge, but he felt this had to be said.

"They don't know she's your sister," he said, "And whether or not they ever find out is up to her. So keep yourself together because, even though you don't like them, they do care about her. Give her the choice."

"We have to find her first," said Wanda.

Her voice cracked a little, but he couldn't detect any softening on her face. Alex gave her a level look.

"We will," he said.

"And how do you know that?" Wanda asked.

He walked past her, his hands in his pockets.

"Because I won't accept anything less," he said.


	10. Chapter 10

Emma crossed her arms and leaned back against the cool leather of the car. She was used to this sort of transport arrangement, usually with a chauffer. It was difficult to remember the last time she had driven herself anywhere.

Even now, she still wasn't driving herself anywhere. She was in the passenger's seat, but not driving. It was irritating. Important people went in the backseat, letting the little people steer while they pulled the strings. It seemed counterintuitive, but it was another piece of wisdom from her mother. She'd found it had its uses.

But the passenger's seat? Oh, she hated the passenger's seat. And not because it was too near to the driver's seat. Emma had spent most of her childhood in the passenger's seat, as well as her early adulthood. Kayla had been driving then and, despite everything her mother had said, Kayla had been a very important person.

So her mood with the man next to her was a foul one. There were several available guard that they had brought with them, and yet he hadn't wanted any of them to drive him. If he hadn't insisted on driving himself everywhere then she wouldn't be forced to sit in the passenger's seat so that they could have a conversation.

Not that they were doing much talking. Emma really hated that about him.

"Out of curiosity," she said, keeping her voice chilly, "Why exactly are we using this as a staging ground?"

"Convenience mostly," he said, "We won't be able to see the effects for the first few hours, but there's a package that I'm going to be picking up from around here. Other than that, it's also rather isolated. Makes it easier to protect."

He didn't look at her while they spoke, and several more warning bells chimed in her head. She'd long known that he felt she was insignificant, probably even thought she was very childish. He never showed any emotion over anything, and she knew that her own temper manifesting looked like a tantrum to him.

And yes, that worried her. She wasn't dumb enough to be ignorant of how bad that was, to be working with someone who viewed her as inferior. Usually she could use that against them, but she had absolutely nothing on the man next to her. As far she could tell, there was nothing he wanted, nothing that he held as precious to him, except his ultimate goal. And she didn't even know what that was.

So for a long time, she had no leverage. All she knew was that he wanted Alexander Summers for some reason, and it wasn't in her power to give or take him away. She was going into a situation all but blinded. There was a small, tremulous voice inside of her, saying that he wouldn't hesitate to kill her. Emma had a sneaking suspicion that he had already decided to do so as soon as she ceased to be convenient.

It wasn't a good feeling, but it was one that Emma had come to accept. As soon as she'd seen her sister's form hit the ground, her boyfriend falling shortly afterwards, the part of her that had really cared about her life and soul had blinked out. There was no one to live for now, no one to use as a shield against her mother's warnings.

Emma had stepped forward in that moment, eager to kill the man below her, and then find his son, and his son's son, and wipe their polluted, filthy blood from the planet. The trembling in the earth had stopped her, and Emma had tumbled backwards.

She must have hit her head on something, because when she'd woken up, she'd still been on that island, but a significant amount of time had passed. Men with guns were coming, and Emma quickly slipped into their minds. Stryker was gone, and now she had to find him.

She had them escort her to the nearest road, and Emma had gone from there. She'd gone into the mind of the nearest driver, and he'd pulled over to give her a ride. It had been the first time that she'd ridden in the backseat.

But even though her timeline had been slowed down, she still had one goal left. The caring had gone, and now there was just one more thing to do before she died. That hadn't changed over the ensuing years as she'd clawed her way through the Hellfire Club.

It certainly hadn't changed now, and she closed her eyes in quiet acceptance. As long as he could help her achieve that goal, she didn't think she cared about what happened afterwards. It just seemed so inconsequential.

That didn't mean that she wouldn't go down without a fight. She was going to be careful around him from here on out. He had promised her the death of her enemies, and she would damn well see that happen. If he tried to renege on his side of the deal or cheat her, then she would be ready.

If the "package" he was talking about was Alexander, as she suspected, then she knew what she had to do. It was a shame to kill someone that she really didn't care about, but she'd do it just to piss off the man beside her. Then she'd see about burning his body so there wouldn't be anything left.

So she didn't say anything in response, just looked out the window, waiting for revenge, for the closest thing to closure she would ever receive and, quite possibly her death. If Essex, or Sinister as her guards had nicknamed him behind his back, could deliver what she wanted, then it might be nice to get some rest afterwards.

Even if that rest was six feet under.

* * *

"How do ya know they're going to yer brother's place?"

"I know," Mystique replied, "There seemed to be a rather large movement of funds, some other little orders. You know, strange things like that."

The man beside her nodded, and she thought she felt the car go a little faster. After all their years together, she could count on him to understand how these things worked. She could almost feel him giving her a tentative look, which wasn't really his style.

And suddenly, Mystique knew what he wanted to ask.

"I don't know how I feel about seeing my brother again," she said, "I think he's going to be happy to see me which, quite frankly, is going to make everything worse."

"Why's that?"

She crossed her arms.

"Have you ever heard the story of The Prodigal Son?" she asked.

He snorted.

"Didn't peg ya for the type ta make religious metaphors," he said.

"The people raising my son are very religious," Mystique said, "Last time I saw him, he seemed to go around with a rosary everywhere he went."

"How do ya feel about that?"

She pursed her lips.

"That my son is developing thoughts, feelings, and beliefs half a world away from me?" she said, "Shitty. But that's not why I brought it up."

He fell silent, and Mystique sighed.

"The point is, no one asked the son how he felt in that story," she said, "Sure, after all the shit he put his father through, his father wanted to forgive him. He was overjoyed simply by the fact that he had come home, that he could see him again, hold him."

She bit her lip, trying to keep tears back.

"No one asked the son how he felt to be given forgiveness that he didn't earn," Mystique said, "No one asked him if, despite the joy and relief he must have felt, if he didn't feel a soul-crushing burden of guilt that he'd put his father through so much."

The man next to her nodded.

"Siblings can be complicated," he said.

"Yeah, you'd know about that, wouldn't you?" she asked.

He winced. It was something of a low blow, but she always hated it whenever he brought up her family. She was very good at returning the favor.

"Didn't mean it like that," he said.

And she nodded, because returning the favor always came with its own unique guilt. Perhaps now wasn't the time, but there were a few things they needed to discuss before they arrived at the school. According to her calculations, they couldn't be more than a few hours away.

"What if she's there?" asked Mystique.

He didn't respond, and she knew that she would have to keep going. She might never get a response, but she had to say something now. It would make her feel better in the long run, better about having done her duty, done the right thing.

Or so she hoped.

"You know who we're going up against," she said, "And you know what kind of a man he is."

Another pause.

"And you know how the Hellfire Club works," she said.

"Yeah, I've come across em a few times," he said.

His voice was tense, and Mystique sighed. This was shaping up to be a miserable car ride but, again, she needed to say something now.

"We both have," she said, "We didn't know that was what they were called back then, but you know what they do. What kind of people are involved in that."

She saw his knuckles grip the steering wheel tighter.

"Not who she was."

"I have no doubt that it isn't who she was," said Mystique, "Most people aren't crime lords when they're eighteen. But we both know what losing people can do to you. We know how much it can screw you up inside."

"I can talk ta the kid."

"And if you can't reach her?" Mystique said.

His breath was coming out harsher now, and she knew she was on thin ice. But she had to keep pressing. It was better that he start thinking about these things when there was a chance that they weren't true than to be surprised by it becoming reality.

"I know what this means to you," she said, "And I know how much you wanted to find her. But...there are some roads that you can't travel back from. I just want you to know that Emma may be too far gone."

There was a long pause, and he gave out a harsh breath.

"I should've found her."

It wasn't what Mystique had been hoping for, but it was something. She swallowed.

"Let's face it," she said, "With all that rubble coming down it was a downright miracle that I was able to find you. When the reports we found said she died, well, can you blame us for believing them? It was only chance that we found out she was with the Hellfire Club."

He shook his head.

"Doesn't matter," he said, "She wouldn't...I can't let that be the kid's future."

Mystique sighed.

"Listen to me," she said, "I want you to listen to me right now, because the way things are going, I might not get another chance. Kayla is gone, and finding her little sister will not bring her back-"

The car jerked off the road. Mystique nearly hit her head on the window as the car screeched to a stop.

"You think I don't know that?" Logan roared, "You think that's not the first thing I think about every damn morning?"

Mystique winced and drew back. She never knew how to deal with Logan when he was like this.

"You think I'm foolin myself?" he snarled, "Well guess what, I know exactly what this will and won't do! Ya don't get ta be my age without figuring that shit out! This isn't about bringing her back!"

"Then what is it about?" Mystique challenged, "Because ever since we found out she's been alive, you've acted like it's going to make everything better!"

"I know it damn well won't!" he said, "But I owe it ta Kayla ta at least try an make sure her sister doesn't spend the rest o her life as Hellfire! Not something you'd understand, but I owe it!"

"You think I don't understand about duty?" Mystique snapped.

"I dunno," snarled Logan, "When I broke ties with my brother, I at least had the balls ta tell him ta go ta hell. Did ya?"

The two of them glared at each other, and Mystique curled her hands into fists.

"I'm starting to regret fishing you out of that damn river," she said, "You never were able to tell me what you were doing with my brother."

"So sorry ta disappoint," he sneered.

He turned the key in the ignition, and the car spluttered back into life.

"Looks like ya and I are damn good at that," he said.


	11. Chapter 11

Wanda could feel her hands itching, the sparks thrumming around her skin. She wanted to hurt someone, to hit them, to make the bubbling cauldron of feelings inside her stomach go away. All she needed was the merest hint of where to start.

There wasn't an object though, and for now she just felt sick. Despite the scene it would have caused, Karma had almost posed as a convenient, and very attractive, target. As the minutes ticked by though, it did make her a little ashamed how eager she was just to hurt someone, put the blame somewhere else? Hadn't that been what Magneto had accused her of days ago, the reason why she was estranged from her mother and sister?

But it hadn't really occurred to her that Lorna wouldn't tell any of her new friends about her family. It should have, admittedly, but it still came as a shock to the system. Wanda hadn't hesitated to tell Domino what had happened to Lorna, and she hated that her baby sister had basically been denying their existence for the past few years.

But then again, could she blame her? Lorna has been in a normal, happy place that had all the trappings of permanence since she was seventeen. Wanda doubted her sister's first few years at the school fell under that category. Her sister had a job that she obviously enjoyed, and many people who cared about her.

The last thing she needed was everyone finding out about her life pre-Westchester. It would probably screw up any potential friendships and, most likely, any potential romantic relationships. Not that she had seen any of the latter, but still.

It still hurt though, which was a good way to describe everything that was happening at the moment. It all hurt. Everything, even the things that shouldn't. She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear as she followed the others out, receiving venomous looks from Karma as she did so.

At least she wasn't the only one who wasn't quite ready to burry the hatchet. It would have driven her mad if all of the X-men turned out to be a saint like Hank or a cool, righteous realist like Alex.

She felt someone walk next to her, and she didn't have to look to see who it was. Even so, she deliberately looked away.

"Hey," Peter said, "I know you're still pissed at me."

It was an understatement. Wanda had just been getting calmed down enough to talk to her mother and, maybe, to Lorna, when she'd heard Hank babbling something about possession. She had wanted to talk to both of them, see just how much damage had been done.

Their answers were supposed to help her figure out whether or not she was ever talking to her brother again. Now that that opportunity had been taken, she was going to go with the safe route and ignore him.

"Just um, I think we need to find Lorna," he said, "And then I think we need to have a talk. All of us. Even...even mom I think."

She continued to look away, resisting the urge to smack him and ask what he thought that would help. It was too late for some sort of family therapy session.

"Or maybe you just need to listen for five minutes before I skat," he said, "I uh, I'm kinda getting the feeling that we may never see each other after all this gets settled."

It was certainly a possibility.

"Just, um, when that time does come, I do want you to know that I'm sorry," he said.

She shook her head. It was time to break the silence.

"Sorry isn't enough Peter," she hissed.

He chuckled and she wanted to smack him for that.

"Nah," he said, "Didn't say it was. Just wanted to let you know that. I'll let anyone know that really."

"What good is it if you tell it to everyone?" asked Wanda.

Peter looped his hands in his belt, his stride becoming increasingly off-kilter. Wanda knew that his foot must still be causing him pain. Good.

"Not much, maybe," he said, "But, all the same, I need to say it."

She glared at him out of the corner of her eye as they walked outside. Daylight had all but fled, and she could feel the chill bite of the air. Peter was still right beside her, probably still waiting. He could wait forever.

"Everyone!" Alex called, "Five minutes?"

Grateful for the distraction, Wanda looked over at Alex. He was standing in his combat gear, arms folded across his chest.

"Now, I don't think she would've been able to reach the main road, not the way she was going," he said, "I think she wanted something from the school, which is why she didn't just run off the minute this thing possessed Lorna. Since we know she didn't loop back around to the school, we should probably split up in teams of two. Quicksilver, got any advice if she puts up a fight?"

Her brother cleared his throat.

"This thing, it's a pretty vicious fighter, and it sure as hell doesn't feel pain," he said, "But it's got a broken wrist. It hasn't shown any inclination not to use it, but it's still something worth noting. The left arm will be a lot weaker than the right."

"Okay, good," he said, "Now, it's movie night for the students, so they wont' know what's going on. All the same, I would like to keep explosions to a minimum. Some of them are older, and they're already figuring a lot of stuff out. Now, there's seven of us, which makes this a tad problematic when it comes to splitting up."

He breathed in.

"But, here's my suggestion," he said, "Three teams. Karma and Cannonball, you're together. Beast, you and Magneto."

She thought she saw Hank wince a little bit, and Magneto raised an eyebrow. There was obviously some sort of history there, but whatever it was, it was probably better than putting him with Karma or Cannonball.

"I'll take the twins," Alex said.

"Sure that's safe?" snorted Karma.

God, that woman.

"Yeah," Alex said, "I got this. We all have radios, so give a shout-out if you find anything."

There were several nods from the X-men. Alex pointed at Karma and Cannonball before jerking his thumb in one direction. The two took off, not saying a word. He nodded quickly at Hank, who hesitated before walking up to him.

"Hank," Magneto said, his tone more of a statement then a question.

"Two minutes," Hank said irritably.

He reached Alex and the two began speaking in hushed voices. Curious, Wanda went and tucked another piece of hair behind her ear. As she did so, a thin film of red sparks coated it. She didn't normally use her powers to listen in on other people's conversations, they often had better ways, ones where the audio actually came thorugh clearly, but she was feeling a little curious at the moment.

What exactly did Hank want to say to Alex that they couldn't hear?

* * *

"How are you holding up?" asked Hank.

Alex forced himself to give his friend a level look.

"Fine," he said.

"How are you really holding up?" Hank asked.

Alex sighed.

"Not great," he said, "Not really. Not that that matters though."

"Why not?"

"Because it can't," said Alex, "I'm not going to do Lorna any good by getting all emotional like her siblings are. It doesn't help her."

"And yet you chose to be paired with them," Hank said.

"Because it was either me or I throw Karma and Cannonball to them," he said, "Karma hates Scarlet, and Sam doesn't know that they're all related. I don't know if the twins have clued in yet that it's not common knowledge that they're Lorna's siblings."

He'd sounded clinical, detached, up to that point, but he couldn't help the slight crack in his voice when he finished.

"She already got her choice about whether or not to tell people that taken away from her once in the past twenty-four hours," he said, "I'd like to avoid doing that again if I can."

Hank nodded and, for a moment, Alex thought that the conversation was over.

"And why did you really decide to go with them?" Hank asked.

Alex opened his mouth to protest, but Hank just shook his head. Sometimes he really did miss the times when his friend was too shy to offer opinions about the emotions of others.

Apparently those years were long gone.

"Don't try to deny that there's something else going on here," Hank said.

Alex ground his teeth together. Seeing that he wasn't going to protest, Hank shoved his hands in his pockets. Alex had always thought it was strange that he had included pockets in his uniform, but maybe he'd done that just so he could do this.

Seemed fitting.

"Alex, how long have I known you?" Hank said, "Granted, you've shown yourself to be tougher than we've given you credit for in the past. Raising Scott, taking charge of the X-men, but what you told Lorna this morning...I thought you were a good man before that but after..."

Hank swallowed and Alex waited patiently, his hands digging into his arms.

"Charles would be proud of you," he said.

It was all he said on the subject but, somehow, it said it all. Alex cleared his throat, feeling the lump there.

"And that's when I knew you really loved her," said Hank, "Because I know what it took to make you say that. I know that it wasn't easy, but you meant it."

"That wasn't on the field," muttered Alex.

"No, you're usually pretty detached on the field, and that's a good thing," Hank agreed, "But that doesn't mean that you don't make any emotional decisions, and I'm pretty sure this is one of them."

"Well, if you've got this all figured out, can we go?" asked Alex.

"You want to be with them because they understand, I think, in a way that the rest of us can't," Hank said, ignoring him, "Sam and I were her teachers, Xi'an's her friend but you love her, and that changes things. The only one with sentiments on that level are the twins, and I think you know that."

He rubbed his temples, trying to focus on something that wasn't Hank's barrage.

"Is there a point to all of this?" he said.

"Just that, when you do find her, I want you to know which part of you is going to find her," he said, "The X-man, or the man who loves her."

"All this, just to tell me to keep myself detached?" Alex demanded.

Hank shook his head again, sadly this time.

"No," he said, "I'm telling you that I hope the X-man doesn't find her, because I know what Havok does to people who hurt people on his team, whether they fight alongside him on the battlefield or not. I want Alex to find her, because I think he's going to have a better shot of bringing her home than Havok."

There was another lump in his throat, which Alex swallowed.

"I'm not the only one who Charles would be proud of," he said.

Hank's expression faltered slightly, but he kept his eyes on Alex. He hadn't received his answer yet.

"I just want her to be okay," he said.

Hank clapped him once on the shoulder and gave him a tentative smile.

"Then go make sure she is," he said.

With a quick nod, Hank walked over to Magneto. Alex straightened his jacket and headed towards the twins, determination in his step. Peter was still looking off to the side, perhaps wondering how long things were going to take. Wanda looked like she'd been smacked in the face.

Whatever it was, it wasn't important. All they needed to do was find Lorna.


	12. Chapter 12

The supplies that Essex had left for her were easy enough to find. Her wrist was healing fairly well, her possession often gave her hosts better regenerative properties, although she knew it would still be weaker if she tried to hit someone with it. She supposed that it was just the price you paid for not being able to feel anything.

She rustled through the supplies with her good hand and came across what she needed to splint it. She did so, feeling fairly annoyed at the necessity. Her healing factor had been much stronger in her first body, and she'd never had a broken bone for more than a few minutes. God, she missed her first body.

Once she was finished splinting she took out the radio phone that Essex had left for her. He wasn't going to be happy that she didn't have Alex in custody, livid would probably be a good description, but she was expected to report in.

It wasn't as though she was giving him nothing though. She still had Lorna's body and, since it wasn't undergoing decay, she had a very viable hostage for the next time she met Alex. She would just have to be a little more careful in the future.

So she punched in the code and leaned against a tree. It didn't take too long for him to pick up.

"Ah, Malice," he said, "You're a little late."

"Got busy," Malice said drily, "There's some sort of armed militia in here."

That had not been a pleasant surprise, but she'd remembered what she'd seen beneath the school. That had been odd enough, but the way they had broken the door down had clinched it. They hadn't even hesitated. Alex's friends were combat ready.

A school her ass.

"How unique," said Essex, sounding delighted, "I'll have to come back to that. And you sound...rather young. Did you possess a student?"

"No. A young teacher," said Malice, "With freaky green eyes and matching hair."

He laughed on the other end.

"I take it you had some trouble possessing Alexander then, didn't you? I hope this wasn't just because you prefer female bodies."

She rubbed her temples.

"No, no," she said, "You were right. I couldn't get in there. I spent ages trying before the door opened and she walked in. Is that his genes or-?"

"As far as I can tell," said Essex, "Something about his ability should repel parasitic creatures, such as yourself."

"I prefer invasive to parasitic," said Malice.

"Yes, of course," Essex said, "Have you managed to access her mutation?"

"Not yet," replied Malice.

That was actually rather frustrating. Mutations were like an extra limb in some ways. They were a part of the body, and when Malice gained control over a mutant body she, more or less, gained control of their mutations too.

Why hadn't she been able to get to Lorna's?

"Now, what condition is Alexander in?" Essex asked.

She winced.

"Uncertain," she said.

There was a pause, and she thought she could hear the sound of a car being pulled over. There were a few muted protests, probably that Frost idiot, and then she heard a car door slam. Essex never slammed anything.

Yes, this was going to be bad.

"Now," he said, his voice more of a snarl, "This can mean one of two things. Either you have him, and he's been beaten so badly that you're not sure he's going to live, or you don't have him. One of these options is worse than the other, so it had better not be that one."

"I don't have him," Malice said.

"Oh goodie. You picked the lesser of two evils," Essex said, "But it is still an evil! Is it not enough that I have to contend with that Frost bitch's pet project without dealing with your incompetence as well?"

Malice drew away from the phone, the pure venom and disgust in his voice something very new.

"Do I have to remind you how easy it is to disperse you?" he snapped, "I have the special magnets in my lab trunk right now. I can find you, right now, and tear you from your newest meat suit in seconds!"

She swallowed, her grip on the phone tightening.

"Hey, I've got a back-up plan," she said, "The teacher I possessed? She's his lover. He's going to come after her."

"Yes, with that little militia you mentioned," he said.

"They're all her friends," Malice said, "I just need to use that to my advantage. They won't want to see her harmed. I've already managed to use that to my advantage a few times."

She heard him breathe heavily on the other end of the line, and she realized that he was trying to calm himself down enough to talk. Malice licked her lips and waited. She didn't have a back-up plan if he didn't give her another chance.

It had never occurred to her that he wouldn't.

"Fine," he said, "But if you ruin this for me, then so help me I will destroy you. You may doubt that. You may think that all the good service you've done for me in the past will save you, but it won't. Not for this. Not when a Summers is involved."

Malice swallowed.

"Understood," she said.

"Good," he said, "I will be there in two hours. I expect my prize to be ready, alive, and in as near-perfect condition as you can muster. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Malice said.

The phone clicked off and Malice let out a shuddering breath. That had not gone as well as she had hoped. She knew that Alex was different for Essex, something to do with his odd genes, but she had no idea that he was this special.

Anger welled up in her. Why did she have to do this? Malice was usually used for Essex's covert operations, but not like this. Angrily she got up. Essex had wanted Alex in mint condition, and she knew better than to defy them. But if she had her way, she'd smash his head against a rock-

_Alex's hand reached her peripheral vision and she jerked back, just in time to hit her head against his. He swore again and she winced, rubbing the back of her head. He looked at her, his expression somewhere between embarrassed and pained._

_"Sorry about that," he said, "Charles always said I was hard-headed, so that must've hurt."_

_She laughed a little despite the pain. Alex grinned at her._

_"What is it about you that makes me feel like I have no idea what I'm doing?" he said._

_She stopped laughing. So he was nervous too, although she had no idea why. She reached out tentatively and touched his hand, still on top of the keys._

_"Maybe it's the natural Maximoff charm," she said._

_His grin widened. Her mother was right: things were going to be fine._

Malice blinked.

"What the hell?" she said aloud, to no one in particular.

There wasn't an answer, she hadn't expected one, but the memory felt like a stone tossed into a still pond. The emotional ripples were still reverberating through her, making her feel ill and dizzy.

She could feel everything in it: the memory of pain from the impact, the strange, fluttering feeling her stomach. Malice could even remember the feel of his hand beneath hers, warm and electrified by nerves.

That sure as hell hadn't been her memory though. It was sweet and soft, viewed through rose-colored spectacles. Malice had never gotten into anything resembling that situation before, and she sure as hell hadn't done it with Alexander Summers.

But Lorna probably had. She began chewing her tongue, her motions a little worried. She had never actually been able to access a person's memories before. That made her job a little more difficult, but most people didn't believe in shapeshifters and telepaths. Even the ones who accepted the scientific evidence of their existence were more likely to believe that they hadn't been personally affected.

Of course, the person she was possessing was still there. They always were. They were the screaming, headache-inducing irritant in her cerebral spinal cord. Most of them tended to get weaker as her time possessing them wore on but, if anything, Lorna had stayed vicious and snarling. A fighter, but she had never been overcome by anyone before.

Still though, she could get through it. It wasn't that big of a deal when everything was said and done. So Lorna had managed to get one measly memory and some emotions through it. It wouldn't change anything. She couldn't get her to care about Alex or what Sinister was going to do to him-

_Alex sighed heavily. He looked around the classroom, almost wistfully she thought._

_"I'm trying Lorna," he said, "I'm trying."_

_Tentatively she put her hand on his. There were only a few minutes of recess, and the last thing she wanted was for the students to walk in on the two of them, but there were still a few things she had to say._

_"Keep trying," said Lorna, "You're not the kind of person who gives up. Don't make yourself that person."_

_He looked up at her. She thought he would say something, but the silence continued. It was like he was trying to figure something out, to understand. She cleared her throat._

_"You mentioned my name next to Scott's," she said quietly._

_He smiled then and picked up her hand, kissing the back of it._

_"Yeah," he said, "I did."_

_Lorna swallowed. There was so much that she wanted to say, so much that needed to say. But the clock was ticking down, so she gripped his hand tighter._

_"Recess is almost over," she said, "I need to get ready."_

_Alex nodded and kissed her hand again._

_"Right," he said, "See you later?"_

_Lorna ducked her head, wondering yet again at what she as getting herself into._

_"Of course," she said._

Malice gripped her stomach and bent double. It was too much. She could actually feel the love in this one, an emotion she hadn't even approached in decades. She could feel Alex's hand in hers, feel alive, feel the smile.

Bile spilt from her lips and she nearly choked on it. Oh God, what was happening? She gripped the ground, forcing herself to focus. From somewhere, far off, she could feel someone smile.

Lorna Goddamn Maximoff.

"Damn you," she snarled.

There seemed to be a kind of pause, followed quickly by an almost giddy scratching. Malice forced her back.

"This is my body now," she snarled, "Not yours. Get the hell out!"

Again, there was that scratching, singing out in that almost triumphant note. Malice growled in frustration. She struck the ground with her hand, and almost screamed when it made impact.

She looked down. It was her broken wrist that she'd struck the ground with, which made sense. The only problem was, she didn't feel pain. She wasn't supposed to. Her being didn't bind to the body properly, didn't line up with the nerve endings.

For some reason though, her body had decided to line up for Lorna Maximoff.

"Shit..." she whispered.

There was that triumphant scratching at the walls of her mind, and Malice snarled back.

"I was going to let you go when this was over," she snapped, "But, instead, I think I'll hold onto. I'll keep you in that room when Essex cuts Alex open, and I'll see if he'll let me help. And then I'll lay you down on a table next to him, do the same goddamn thing to you!"

There was silence for a minute and then, almost as though through a whisper, came the words:

_You can try._


	13. Chapter 13

"Do you have the feeling that something's going on that we don't know about?" asked Xi'an.

"Hells yeah," Sam said.

He probably would've said more, but suddenly he crouched down on the ground. Knowing that there must have been a reason, Xi'an crouched next to him. There was an indentation in the dirt, along with a broken stick.

Others might have dismissed it as a rabbit's track, or some other small animal, but Xi'an knew it wouldn't be as soon as she crouched down. Sam was a good tracker from his time in the military, and he'd gone hunting a lot when he was younger.

Xi'an had learned from her grandfather back when she was still living in Vietnam. It had been a happy time, but even as a child she had the feeling that it wasn't going to last long. She wasn't stupid, and she knew that, politically, things weren't doing too well.

At least this meant that those skills were going towards something useful. In this case, those skills were very definitely telling her the story of someone's heel being ground into the dirt, but that they hadn't put any weight on their toes.

"Think she went this way?" asked Xi'an.

"Thinkin she at least looped round," Sam said.

He got up.

"We'll keep going for another mile o two. No signs, we come back here," he said.

She nodded, and got up so that she stood next to him.

"Seriously though," she said, "I have the feeling that something's going on that we don't know about."

"They're all kinds o things goin on that we don't know about," said Sam, "All kinds o things."

"And you're okay with that?" asked Xi'an.

"Absolutely Ah'm not," Sam said, "Ah am pretty damn upset about it actually."

Xi'an nodded. It summed up how she felt rather nicely.

"Lorna was one o mah favorite students," he said, "Always wanted ta learn more, discover more. Ah knew she'd had it rough in the past, not sure how, but Ah knew things were tough for her. Was one o the reasons Ah was so excited when she decided ta go ta college after all."

"There was a time when she wasn't going to go to college?" asked Xi'an.

The thought that Lorna, with her calm demeanor and honed teacher skills, not wanting to pursue her degree, seemed ludicrous.

"Sure was," Sam said, "Said it was complicated, wouldn't tell me more. Then, one day, Charles up an tells me she changed her mind. I always figured he said somethin ta her, maybe had a little chat. All Ah knew was that it was difficult for her ta make that decision."

"But why?" asked Xi'an.

"Charles told me not ta press," Sam said.

He scratched the back of his neck.

"So Ah never did," he said.

"That was probably a mistake," she said.

"Maybe," Sam said, sounding a little irritable, "But Ah was a fairly new teacher, and yah gotta remember, this ain't just any school. This is Xavier's, an most everybody who comes through those doors got baggage o some kind. Some of em, it's a backpack. Others, it's a twelve-piece matchin set. Sometimes it's hard ta tell the difference between the two."

Xi'an had to concede the point. She'd seen students who ran down the hall and joyfully played with other children with scars on their faces and pain in their hearts. She'd seen children who were withdrawn and scared, only to realize that they were shy.

"Everyone copes with things differently," she said.

"Yeah. And mebbe whatever it was Lorna had ta cope with, she wanted ta do it in her own way," Sam said, "Why Ah think her an Alex work: they're just so damn stubborn."

Xi'an laughed a little, and then she caught sight of some more collapsed branches. This time it looked like someone had left the path entirely, and there were several footprints. They would've been made by someone who was around Lorna's height and weight.

"We should follow this," she said.

"Right," Sam said, "But we should radio it in fore we go."

Xi'an grabbed her radio and began punching in the appropriate code. As she did so, Sam scratched the back of his neck again.

"Yah know, everythin you've been sayin, it's made sense. But Ah don't think we're gonna get a chance ta ask," he said, "Not any time soon."

"And why's that?" Xi'an asked.

He grinned, but it was a lopsided expression.

"Don't think anyone's in a position ta tell us, honestly," he said.

* * *

The woods around the school reminded Peter a bit of woods they had once had a hideout in. It had been torched during a gunfight with the FBI, but he still had the memory. Honestly, Peter had never really liked it, but he figured that it was just the price that you had to pay every now and then for a place out in the middle of nowhere.

Maybe that had been the same thinking that had led Xavier's ancestors to place their mansion in the middle of nowhere. It was still that same kind of thinking that had led to Xavier establishing his school there, amidst the trees, hidden from the world.

Once this was all over, Peter figured he might need to find a place like that if he didn't go back to the Brotherhood. He wasn't sure if it was though. Lorna's last words kept echoing in his mind. He might not have done right by her, but he knew that he'd done right by his species.

Hadn't he?

"Alright," Alex said, "Keep your eyes peeled for anything unusual."

"Yes, we already figured that out," said Wanda irritably.

Peter swallowed and looked at his sister. This seemed a little unusual, given that his sister had only been angry at him earlier. As far as he could tell, nothing had really happened to make her angry at Alex.

At least, not at the moment.

"I can't see any real sign of disturbance," Alex said, "Nothing major right now."

"Be too much to ask for her to leave a trail of bread crumbs, wouldn't it?" he asked.

Although it was weird that Alex would laugh, Peter still cracked a smile. It wasn't good circumstances to be doing this, but things were difficult enough without humor. Sometimes you just had to find your laughs in odd places.

He winced

"How old are you?"

The question was so casually said, and so horribly out of place, that Peter had to turn and look at his sister. Wanda was looking calmly forward, but Peter knew enough about her sister to know that something was wrong, something just beneath the surface of her expression.

The question had certainly caught Alex, to whom it was directed, off-guard. He looked over at Wanda hesitatingly.

"What?" he asked.

"How old are you?" she said again.

This time the casual nature of the question was dropped and the question was a bit more pointed. Peter cleared his throat.

"Since we're looking for the crazy demon-thing that's possessing Lorna, can we leave personal questions aside for right now?" he asked.

"I don't think it's a demon," Alex said, still looking at Wanda like she'd sprouted horns.

"Wait, so mutants can possess people now?" he asked, "I mean, I thought Karma was just doing telepathy-"

"We're not sure about that," said Alex.

"Immaterial," said Wanda, "How old are you?"

She gave Alex a side-look.

"You look thirty-eight, and I sincerely hope that's not true," she said.

"What? No. I'm almost thirty-one," Alex said, looking uncomfortable, "Why?"

"I think you know why," said Wanda, her voice back to that eerie, casual tone.

He saw that Alex seemed sincerely confused. It looked like he had something in common with him for once.

"Was she ever one of your students?" Wanda asked.

Alex froze, and Peter could tell that whatever Wanda had just sent fireworks into his brain.

"I didn't even work here when she was going to school," he said.

"Sorry, what?" asked Peter.

Wanda rolled her eyes in disgust.

"He's dating Lorna," she said.

Peter made a gagging noise.

"No," he said, "Uh-uh. Gross. You're like a hundred."

"Thirty," Alex said tightly.

"Close enough," said Peter, "And you're a, ugh, you're a gym teacher or something."

He shook his head.

"Wanda, Lorna wouldn't go out with someone like him," he said, "I mean, come on. She's smart. She'd be with like a doctor, or a lawyer, or-"

"Apparently she is though," Wanda said, not looking at him.

Peter frowned and looked over at Alex. Alex was staring straight ahead, not glancing back at either of them. He gagged again.

"Shit, she's dating him," he said.

Alex rubbed his temples, looking like he wanted to be anywhere but there.

"Oh my God," Peter said, "Doesn't Xavier have some sort of policy against teachers dating students?"

"She was never my student," said Alex flatly.

"Ugh," Peter said.

He ran his hands through his hair. He closed his eyes for a minute, and then looked up at Alex. Alex was staring back at him, his expression inscrutable.

"Okay, you are definitely not good enough for her," Peter said.

Alex gritted his teeth and began turning his head. He stopped halfway through the motion.

"You know what?" he said, "No. No. This is not how this is going to go."

He waved his hand.

"I am not about to have you all commenting on my personal life," he said, "I'm just not."

"Hey, our business too," Peter said, "That's my little sister you're slobbering over."

"Slobbering?" said Alex.

His tone was low and angry, but Peter pressed on.

"You are not good enough, not by any stretch of the imagination," he said, "You look like you've never shaved, you're like a decade older than her, you're an X-man, you're just a teacher-"

"And you're terrorist, but I was doing a good job not mentioning that up until right now," Alex said, "I am nine years older than her and, just so we never bring this up again, she was never my student!"

Wanda snorted. Alex breathed out through his nose.

"See, this is your problem," he said, "Even after everything she's said to you, you're still trying to decide what is and isn't good for her life."

He clenched his fist.

"What bothers you all more," he said, "That's she's dating me, or that she's built a good life without you guys?"

"And you're thinking you're part of that life?" asked Peter.

"Maybe," Alex said, "At least, I think I have a good shot at being part of it."

He narrowed his eyes.

"The question is, can you say the same?" asked Alex.

Peter opened his mouth, ready to shoot something back, but he caught sight of Wanda's face. She was looking at the ground, biting her lip uncertainty. Anything he wanted to say died before it reached his lips.

"That's what I thought," Alex said.

There was a beeping, and Alex took his radio from his belt. He listened for a little bit, and then copied before hanging up.

"Karma and Cannonball found something, about a mile away," Alex said, "Let's get moving, and let's find her. Then, if you still feel up to it, or really believe you have the right to comment on her love life, you can grill me all you want."


	14. Chapter 14

Malice was livid. Livid and frightened. She was used to the first emotion, aware that she had something of a temper. It was how she had earned her nickname from Essex. Her rage and ability to hold a grudge were fairly well-known.

But it was the second emotion that was making her even angrier. Lorna was a slip of a girl in real life. When Malice had been considering her as a host, she'd seen a slender girl who'd never participated in combat. She'd had the muscles of a runner, not a fighter. It would make her more breakable, but Malice hadn't been worried about that back then.

She'd been injured and was bearing her soul to the man she loved. Emotionally and physically weakened were always good when she wanted to possess someone. It made the whole process much easier and, when she saw that her target cared for Lorna, she hadn't hesitated to claim her.

But now she was worried. The girl's will had been stronger than she had anticipated. She had underestimated her, and now she was paying dearly for it. But at the same time, it appeared that something else was happening.

Headaches were the most common manifestation of a host's will. The memories were new, and highly, highly unwelcome. They weren't her memories, weren't her emotions. However, her borrowed brain and body had once felt these sensations, felt Alex's lips on hers, his fingers tenderly caressing her cheek and neck. Sensations and feelings were like old wounds: they might be invisible to the eye, but all they really needed was a good kick to get them going.

Now she could feel a little twinge of sadness for what she was going to do to Alex. But it wasn't her sadness. It was Lorna's. Lorna was fighting back with everything she knew and, somehow, she was managing to gain ground.

This was not particularly helpful, especially when Alex was her target. Essex was already furious that she hadn't been able to deliver. It wasn't as though she had anything against Alex, not when all this had begun.

Of course she hated him now for the trouble he'd put her to, for all the inconveniences. Of course she wanted to beat the shit out of him-

_"Lorna?" Alex mumbled, "What's wrong?"_

_She smiled softly, fanning out her fingers on his chest._

_"Nothing," she said, "Go back to sleep."_

_Alex was a little more awake now, and he was looking at her shrewdly. His expression softened, and he moved his hand up to brush away her tears._

_"You aren't uncomfortable here or anything, right?" he asked tentatively, "I mean, I didn't fall asleep on purpose. You should've just pushed me off the bed if I was blocking your way and you wanted to go."_

_Lorna laughed, but the sound was choked. Alex was one of the strongest people she had ever come across. It was so strange to see him nervous, to see him not be confident about something. She offered him a smile._

_"No, it's okay," she said, "Nothing's wrong."_

_"Then why are you crying?" he asked._

_Her smile faltered a bit, but Lorna didn't let it slip too much. Things felt like they were moving fast with Alex, propelled by some invisible force. Somehow Lorna felt like she was living on borrowed time, as though a clock were ticking down somewhere and, when it stopped, everything would explode._

_It was probably all in her head, or so she told herself. Things didn't have to move too fast. She knew that she would have to tell him eventually about her siblings but, just for tonight, maybe it was alright to pretend that she didn't._

_"Bad dream," she said, "That's all."_

_Alex looked at her for a moment. He hesitated before leaning in and kissing her forehead gently. Her skin tingled from where his lips made contact, and she breathed in quietly._

_"Well, I wouldn't worry about that," he said, "We all have those."_

Malice hissed between her teeth and fought the urge to throw up. Again. It felt like she was being slapped in the face with a shovel every time a memory arose. It was almost as painful as the pain in her wrist, which wasn't healing anywhere near as fast as it should.

It had been so long since she'd last felt pain that it felt like it was making her dizzy. How had Lorna managed to do that? She could almost see how Lorna could fight with memories: she might be in a different part of her mind, but she was still sharing a mind with Malice.

Pain was different. When Malice entered a host, her particles of being would attach themselves to the cerebral spinal chord and parts of the brain. It wasn't designed that way, but it was the only place she could latch onto with any certainty.

This would effectively shut several nerve endings down, which would cancel out any pain. A broken wrist should not have this affect on her. She'd been cut in half once and been fine until her host died from blood loss. Pain had never meant anything to her.

And now that it did, she hated Lorna for it. Hated her and her iron will, her ability to fight back. She hated her cocky words, and she was getting ready to fight back however she could. She was going to hurt Lorna until she begged her to let her die.

With that in mind, she got up from her post by the tree and buried the last part of the package. Her wrist was almost back to normal, and she kept a close eye on it. It was going to take plenty of coddling in the next few minutes.

No one did this to her. And she was going to make sure that, after today, Lorna understood her place.

* * *

Sam picked up what looked like an empty box. He could still see a few plastic bags in it, bags that had contained something in them at one point. They weren't military-issue, he'd seen enough of that in his career to be able to tell the difference, but they were certainly heavy-duty.

He showed Alex this, and Alex scratched the back of his neck thoughtfully. No doubt he was thinking the same thing. Too many years in the military had shown them what the proper equipment looked like. They even had a fairly good idea of what rip-offs looked like.

This was neither, which meant that it would be a little more difficult to pinpoint whoever was behind this. Was this thing a rogue agent? An old enemy? The government? The only one that seemed unlikely at this point was the last one. It was too disjoined to be government.

Xi'an pushed off from the tree that she'd been leaning on, tapping one of the empty boxes with her toe. They had scouted the area before the rest had come, making sure that their target wasn't trying to trap them. They hadn't seen hide nor hair of her and, when they hadn't seen any traps, had moved in.

Alex and the twins had arrived shortly afterwards. Hank and Magneto were still fairly far away, but he figured they would be getting there soon enough.

"She had a regular camp set up here," Xi'an said.

"Nah," said Peter, "Looks more like a drop-off spot. Not homey enough for a camp."

"She's a disembodied spirit," Xi'an said, "I don't think homey was even on her priority list."

"No, he's got a point," Alex said, "You'd think that there would be a sleeping bag here or something."

"Or food," Sam muttered.

He got to his feet.

"Ah don't think she was plannin on bein here for long," he said, "Ah think it was more of a case of pickin somethin up, an then she left."

"But for where?" asked Xi'an, "This doesn't make any sense. She actually ran further away from the main road."

"Only one real reason for that," Sam said.

He gave Alex a pointed look.

"What could she want that we have?" he asked.

"Nothing at the Institute, that's for certain," Quicksilver said.

"What makes you say that?" asked Xi'an.

"Coupla things," Quicksilver shrugged, "I mean, she skeddadled the moment I figured out who she was, and it doesn't seem like she was planning on going back. No tracks or anything."

He paused, and then looked at Xi'an and Sam.

"Right?" he asked.

"None leadin back to the Institute," Sam said, "Ah think she was gone about two hours from here when we came here."

"Then what exactly are we waiting for?" asked The Scarlet Witch, "If we have something that she wants, then she's not going to leave the area."

"You would think," Alex said.

He looked up at the sky thoughtfully, almost as though he were trying to process new information, information that was just beyond his grasp. Sam had the same feeling too. It was like there was something obvious staring them in the face, but they couldn't quite see it.

He hadn't been this frustrated since he left the military.

"Can ya tell which way she was heading?" Quicksilver asked.

Sam frowned and moved a little closer to the edge of the clearing. When he did, he forced himself to stop. The ground underneath a tree had been disturbed, almost as though someone had been digging there.

It was such a little thing, and he could see how Xi'an and he had missed it when they had first combed through the camp. The roots of the tree had practically surrounded it. If he hadn't been keeping such an eye out for this sort of thing, then he might have missed it even during the second run through.

In his head, Sam roughly calculated the size. His chest began to clench. He'd seen this sort of thing before.

"Everybody, take fifty giant steps away from this clearin right now," he said.

"What?" asked Xi'an.

"Now!" he roared.

He didn't want to see if they actually obeyed him. For his part, Sam stepped as far back as he could and picked up a rock. He hefted the weight in his hands. It was heavy enough that it would work.

That was when Sam looked back, trying to figure out where they all were. To his relief he saw that, yes, they had actually followed his instructions. He cleared his throat once before throwing the rock at the disturbed earth.

While it was still in the air he began running. His hands went over his head, trying to remember his training. Sam heard the explosion and the way that the tree splintered. When he was sure that the worst of it was over he turned and looked back.

The tree had shattered into two pieces, and the different branches were scattered across the ground. He could see that Xi'an, who hadn't been as far away as he would have liked, had splinters in her hair.

"She set a land mine on us?" Xi'an said.

She stepped back into the clearing, her arms crossed. The Scarlet Witch followed almost immediately, examining the tree.

"Not sure if that was a land mine," she said, "Same basic principal, yeah, but the execution was totally different. It looks homemade-"

Whatever else she wanted to say was lost. Before she could finish her sentence, a thick gray smoke seeped from the ground. It spread quickly and, in seconds, he saw Xi'an and The Scarlet Witch start to cough.

Seconds later, he felt his throat seize up, and he joined them.


	15. Chapter 15

If someone had asked Hank who he would rather go with on the search for Lorna, Magneto or the twins, he would have answered the twins without a moment's hesitation. Those who knew his thoughts over the past few hours might have been rather surprised at the answer, but it was an honest one.

To some extent, he understood the twins. They were selfish and single-minded, but they also had a streak of kindness running through them. At one point, they had been good siblings. It was why some part of Lorna was still so loyal to them.

There was also the ability to empathize, something he was picking up from a few context clues. They might not use it half as much as they should, they might not be as kind or as strong as they could be, but it was obvious that they could do better. They could be better.

It was a mantra that Hank had murmured to himself over the years he'd spent with Charles. Even at his lowest point, a drunken, bitter man who had spent most of his time either wallowing in the past or trying to forget it, he could be better. Hank had seen what he could be when he applied himself, had seen Charles as his best self, and known that he could get better. His faith had been rewarded, and every year Charles seemed to get stronger.

He'd said the same to himself about Alex, about the countless students who passed through Westchester. They entered scared, nervous, some sad, some resistant, and some who just wanted the world to go away. They could be better, and he could help them get there.

He wasn't quite sure that the same applied to Magneto. Not that Hank would offer help, since he was sure that he would only be hurt if he tried. Charles was the perfect example of this and, as far as he could tell, Magneto had never really apologized for that. It was one of the most disgusting things he'd ever come across.

When it really came down to it, Magneto hadn't changed much over the years. Oh yes, his costume had undergone some changes, and he looked a little older. There were more wrinkles, probably more scars.

Most other things were still the same though. He still wanted the same things, and he was still using the same methods to get it. Having better funding and more people meant nothing. When it came down to it, he was the same man who had left Charles on the beach all those years ago.

So Hank did not want to pair up with him but, like Alex, he was old enough and wise enough to know that personal sacrifices had to be made. Xi'an had a hot temper, which would have ended in something terrible. Sam, for all of his better qualities, had a tendency to run his mouth. Neither would do well with Magneto.

Alex would have been able to stand it, but Hank understood his personal reasons for picking the twins. The entire mission had a personal slant to it, more for them than most of the people. Not everyone knew that Wanda and Peter were related to Lorna and Alex had a point. It wasn't fair to give others the possibility of finding out without her permission. God willing, they would see her again soon, and Hank didn't want to have to explain that.

So, without complaint, he had agreed to work with a man he had despised since he was a teenager. Like Alex, Hank prided himself on his ability to stay detached. He also prided himself on his ability to know when emotion played a role. He would have to be careful though.

Magneto looked deep in thought when they set out, but Hank hadn't bothered to ask him why that was. He just started to sniff the air, making sure that he could get as much information as possible. Hank knew what Lorna smelt like, and he was able to cotton on to her scent rather quickly.

Immediately he'd started leading the way. He heard Magneto pause behind him before continuing.

"She was definitely in this part of the woods," Hank said, "Don't think it was very long. Might have initially come out here and then doubled back, or maybe she was just looking for a place to rest."

Magneto had given him a curious look.

"Enhanced senses?" he asked.

Hank frowned, and then realized what was going on. Magneto hadn't been there when those had developed. Hank wondered if Wanda and Peter had discovered he had them. Maybe none of the Brotherhood knew, and now he had just pretty much given it away.

Great. He didn't see a way out of this though.

"Yes," Hank said.

"When did that happen?" asked Magneto.

Seriously?

"Shortly after you left," Hank said brusquely.

They didn't speak much after that, and Magneto continued to let Hank take the lead in the woods. It was unnerving really. Magneto had rarely let other people lead the way. Was he that confident in Hank's abilities? Or did he just think that there was a better chance at finding her?

The woods had a kind of mellow smell, but Hank could smell the different undercurrents. Lorna's scent was faint, and Hank knew that it was getting fainter. It was likely she hadn't spent much time in this part of the woods at all.

It was irritating to acknowledge that, despite his gifts, they weren't going to be particularly useful in this case. Hank sighed after several minutes and told Magneto as much. He hadn't said much, and Hank figured he might as well call Alex and tell him that their part of the woods was, more or less a dead-end.

Then he'd gotten the call from Xi'an. He was relieved that someone had found something. The quicker they got a lead, the quicker they could find her, and the quicker this part of the fight would be over. They would have to get her back to Charles fairly fast though. They didn't know how she was being possessed, but Charles was a good place to start.

So they had started to head back, and then Hank had smelt it. It wasn't an entirely unfamiliar smell, but it had no place in the woods surrounding a school. He wrinkled his nose as Magneto stopped next to him.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"I'm picking up gunpowder," Hank said, "Not very strong, so only trace amounts. The kind of smell you would get if you had a lot of guns in one place."

Magneto furrowed his brow.

"I believe that Charles still has a disgust for guns, doesn't he?" he asked.

"Yes, which means someone else brought them here," said Hank.

He took a few steps forward, and then hesitated. The smell was taking them in the exact opposite direction of where Xi'an and Sam were. Hank paused for a moment, feeling slightly indecisive. Lorna was their goal, not whatever this was.

However, someone had brought weapons onto the school's grounds. Hank wasn't about to let that go, not with the amount of danger it posed to them. He was sure that, between Alex, Xi'an, Sam, Peter, and Wanda, they could take care of Lorna.

So he trudged on. Magneto drew level with him.

"I think that we're going the opposite direction that you initially indicated," Magneto said.

"Yes," Hank said irritably, "There's a lot of guns being brought onto campus the same day that someone possesses one of our teachers. I doubt that they're unconnected."

"So your priority is the guns then?" Magneto said.

Hank wasn't sure, but he thought that he could hear an undercurrent of frustration.

"My priority is the one lead that is not currently being followed-up on," Hank said.

Magneto let out a harsh breath, but Hank was getting frustrated himself.

"Right now, there are five people who are following the first lead," he said, "If I call them we can maybe get Alex and his team to go investigate this. But, given his team's composition, they are going to go to what looks like a camp. Karma and Cannonball are already there."

The words came out fast and angry. He couldn't believe that he had to explain this to Magneto. Maybe he had changed. Maybe he'd become dumber.

"We're the best candidates to follow this lead," he said, "It's not easy, and it may turn out to be nothing. But we have to follow-up on it."

Magneto looked at him for a moment longer, and then nodded. It was good, and he was glad that Magneto had come into his senses. He wouldn't have been able to talk Wanda and Peter out of their course, at least he didn't think so, but he was smarter than that.

Hank turned and reached for his walkie-talkie. He keyed in Alex's code, but he didn't pick up. Hank frowned for a moment, it wasn't like Alex to let a message go through, and then saw that the signal on the walkie is low.

Once everything was over he needed to take a weekend off and work on these. The earpieces would have worked better, but they were going to be too far apart. Even the walkies seemed to be failing. Maybe he should have called before they started walking, but doubling back would take far too much time.

If they got to higher ground, then he might be able to get a better signal though. He nods to himself and heads off, looking for increases in elevation.

"It looks like we've got a bad signal," Hank said, "Look for higher ground so we can contact them."

Magneto nodded again, but there's a tightness, a bitterness about him that hadn't been there before. He glanced him over, trying to figure out what was going on. He seemed so on-edge, and Hank was surprised that he hadn't noticed it before.

Why? What did he have at stake? It was easy when he thought about Wanda and Peter, about the X-men. Lorna was precious to them, even if they expressed it in odd ways. Lorna had once been under his protection, but she had left him years ago. Magneto was unlikely to be this attached to her after that. He had some sort of friendship, if it could be called that, with Charles, but that was completely different.

He swallowed and picked his words carefully.

"This is a very personal mission for all of us," Hank said, "Lorna is the twins' sister, and she's our co-worker and friend. Someone attacked us on our turf, took one of our people, and is using her as a shield and a hostage."

"Your point?" asked Magneto.

Hank weaved through some trees.

"It's very personal for us," he said.

"You've said that already," Magneto said, "And, again, I fail to see what your point is."

Hank sighed.

"I just want to know why it's personal for you too," he said, "Because you're acting like it's personal. You're not as freaked-out as Wanda and Peter, but that's not really how you show anger, how you show concern. Or what passes for it for you."

It was true. Magneto had always let his anger burn, the heat gradually building until it exploded.

"So why are you acting like she's so important?" he asked, "Why is this personal for you?"

Magneto didn't answer. Hank repressed a snort and then continued walking.

"By all accounts, she shouldn't be this important to you," he said, "But you're acting more like a father trying to find a lost daughter than a former cell leader looking for a deserter."

There wasn't any answer, but Hank knew not to expect one by this point. Never mind. He needed to stay focused. He'd figure things out later.


	16. Chapter 16

When the smoke appeared, Alex recognized it immediately. Sam might have too: he wasn't sure. He'd been in the Army, not the Marines like Alex. Alex wasn't sure the specifics of their training. He wasn't sure if they had them put on their gas masks and sprayed them with tear gas too.

"Close your eyes, cover your mouth, and get the hell out!" he yelled.

Sam closed her eyes and stumbled to the side. He was already on the very edge of the clearing, but it was obvious that it had already done a great deal of damage. Alex caught his friend before he tripped over a tree root. Sam had already been hit bad, tears streaming down the face and hacking coughs rocking his frame but he'd managed to get out of the way.

He pulled Sam further back and examined the cloud, waiting for the girls to follow. He couldn't see Wanda and Xi'an though the smoke. It was thicker than he was used to seeing, which was troubling. Was she using some sort of strange type? A new type? Was she just flooding the area? How long would it take to get to him?

However, Xi'an and Wanda's coughs were filling his ears. Alex began to take off his coat. He planned to wrap the sleeves around his mouth, which wouldn't do much. It would give him a little bit of time, and if he squeezed his eyes shut, then he would probably be able to lead them out of the area worst-affected by the gas.

A blur raced by him, and Alex felt like cursing. A second later, Wanda and Xi'an were out, Peter's arms wrapped around their shoulders. It would have been an amazing feat, if the idiot hadn't run into a cloud of tear gas without actually bothering to cover up his face beforehand.

He might have only been in the cloud for a few seconds, but Alex could see where his eyes were already tearing. He was coughing slightly, and Alex wanted to curse him and ask him why he hadn't thought before diving in. Why hadn't he taken a minute to cover his mouth, to do something for his eyes? Didn't he have goggles somewhere, or did he not use them anymore? Why hadn't he thought before charging in-?

And as Alex put a hand to steady the three of them, he realized why Peter hadn't thought before charging in after his sister. It hadn't been because he was stupid, or because he didn't know what he was supposed to do. Quite simply, waiting would have been a waste time. It would mean leaving his sister to choke in tear gas for another ten seconds, and those were ten seconds that Peter was not willing to spare.

But, he had also rescued Xi'an. Perhaps it had been an afterthought, a decision quickly made, but it would've been a very quick one indeed. In the midst of tear gas Peter had decided to save both of them instead of just going after his sister.

Alex pushed the small group to higher ground, a pain in his chest starting. He was always going to be the practical one, no matter what Hank said. He was going to think a situation through before charging in, drawing his sword and sounding a battle cry. Instead Alex was the methodical, detached, type, and it had served him well in the past.

Peter was an idiot, but there was a brashness to his bravery that he could respect and recognize. It was different from Lorna's strength, but there was something similar about it. It made him realize that they shared something other than the same DNA.

He shook his head, deciding to think about that later, to focus instead on the fact that he now had every single member of his team suffering from exposure to tear gas. If he'd waited for another minute or two, then he wouldn't even be able to offer them his expertise.

They had gotten to a hill, which meant that the gas was flowing under them right now. It just seemed like it kept coming. This thing had gone all out to make sure that they wouldn't be followed. They would have to wait for it to disperse before moving out. He would have to radio Hank, make sure he and Magneto didn't walk into this mess.

Alex quickly assessed the four of them. Wanda, who had been closest to it, seemed the worst set up. Her eyes were looking around sightlessly when they were open, which was rarely. It was probably part of the temporary blindness, and she was coughing up phlegm. He unhooked his water bottle.

"Quicksilver, get them seated," he said, "This is gonna be disorienting to say the least."

Peter nodded and immediately helped his sister down. At least this way no one would start stumbling around. Alex unscrewed the water cap and walked up to Wanda.

"I don't have milk, so we're going to have to settle for this," he said.

Wanda continued to cough and splutter instead of answering, so Alex walked over and pried her eyelids opened. She let out a gurgle of pain, and he began pouring the water into her eyes. She bit back a scream, and Alex moved onto the next eye.

"No one touch your faces for the next several hours," Alex said, finishing up, "We're going to get this all sorted."

Her eyes weren't anywhere near good enough for him to stop paying attention, but the others needed his attention too. He turned away from her and saw that Peter, despite common sense, was still standing.

Peter wasn't as bad as the others, he'd only had a few seconds of exposure, but exposure was exposure. He was already tearing up, impairing his vision, and Alex could see that he was coughing from time to time.

"You know," Alex said, "You should probably sit down-"

Something hard hit him in the chest and knocked him to the ground. He looked up and gazed into black eyes that peered at him through the lenses of a gas mask. He could just make out the webbed vein choker on Lorna's throat.

Angrily he flipped her off. She landed on her feet, scrabbling but still upright. Alex sent a blast her way, concussive, but she dodged. He expected her to come straight for him but, instead she began weaving in and out of where his teammates were sitting.

It was mocking, but also highly dangerous for them. She was using them as shields, but she was also using them as hostages. Alex wasn't even sure that any of them were well enough to open their eyes and see what was going on.

He got to his feet, and Peter stumbled at his. Alex wished he would just stand down, and he nearly screamed at him to do so. However, alerting their enemy that Peter wasn't at peak condition could get him killed.

So instead Alex sent off another two blasts, carefully aiming them so that they wouldn't hit anyone who had been disabled. She dodged the two of them and shoved Peter backwards. He began to lose his footing, and Alex realized that he was about to topple headfirst into the tear gas below them.

Alex raced over and grabbed his hand, just before he toppled over. Peter blinked rapidly at him, no doubt trying to figure out just what the hell was going on. Too much tear gas. Alex had just managed to steady him, and then he felt the shove.

He let go of Peter's arm immediately: he knew that he wouldn't be able to steady him and he didn't want to drag him down. Alex tried to steady himself, but he felt his legs move, and he rolled down the hill.

Before he hit the ground Alex closed his eyes. He brought his arm up to his face, tried to hold his breath, but it was too late. Tear gas was already seeping through his cloth and flesh, and his eyes were beginning to water.

He forced himself to try to get up, to get away from the gas, but something hard landed on his chest. He sent out a blind blast, and there was temporary relief and a curse. Then he felt the weight again, felt it like someone was trying to drown him.

Something sharp stuck him in the arm, and his head became floaty. His arm fell away from his side and, immediately, the burning, screaming pain that tear gas brought with it pushed him down.

* * *

Malice smiled as Alex lost consciousness. It felt like an odd gesture, because she really didn't feel like smiling. She had knocked out Alexander Summers, and now she just had to take him to the meeting place. The rest of his teammates had been caught by the tear gas, and she could probably take them without breaking a sweat. Hours of planning, what seemed like hours of waiting, and it had all come together perfectly. She should be happy.

But there was another part of her that felt sad, anguished. Malice told herself that it was Lorna, trying to break free, but the feelings in those memories were getting more and more potent with every passing moment. The pain and the emotions were starting to feel like hers.

She reached out and cupped Alex's cheek. Pleasant tingles raced up her arm. Malice withdrew her hand, feeling disgusted. Lorna was sinking her claws into her, and the sooner she wrapped all of this up, the better.

Malice grabbed Alex's foot and began dragging him back up the hill. Something grabbed her from behind and jerked her backwards. She hissed at the movement, and jerked around. Malice shoved her palm into her attacker's nose even before she recognized the man who had stopped her original abduction.

He stumbled backwards, and she could see his red-rimmed eyes. She grinned and hit him once in the diaphragm. That would make it even more difficult for him to breathe. She owed him for the broken wrist.

She pulled out a knife that she had in her back pocket and unsheathed it. He tried to rush her, but she sidestepped him and slashed at his arm with the knife. He moved out of the way at the last minute though, and she was only able to graze him. So close.

He swung out, and this one caught her around the side of her head. It felt like hell. Malice snarled and tackled him. They tumbled down the hill together, losing her knife in the process. When they reached the bottom she slammed his head into the ground.

He began choking from the tear gas, and she slammed his head once or twice more. When he was unconscious she got up and picked up the knife. Lorna might be protecting Alex, but she'd been given a rather convenient outlet for her frustrations.

She knelt down and tilted his chin back. Malice drew her knife back and-

_Lorna nodded and climbed into the passenger's seat. At the same time, Peter climbed over and sat in the driver's seat. He started the car and headed back to the apartment. Lorna could see that his other hand was tapping the dashboard again. He'd go faster if he could in the car, but Wanda had said that the last thing they needed was speeding tickets._

_"You did good," Peter said._

_Lorna snorted._

_"For your first try," Peter said, "Besides, how many thirteen-year-olds get to drive?"_

_"I'm thirteen next month," said Lorna._

_"I was rounding," Peter said, "But that's even cooler! I woulda loved driving at your age. Bikes were too slow."_

_He frowned._

_"Until I started being able to outrun bullets," he said, "Then everything else became too slow."_

Malice felt like throwing up. She managed to restrain herself from doing so, because she had no desire to do so within her gas mask. The hand carrying the knife trembled, and she cursed at Lorna. Malice couldn't risk the blowback from outright killing someone Lorna cared about. Not when she didn't know how Lorna was doing this.

She put the knife away and headed back down for Alex. Perhaps Essex wanted some new test subjects for other procedures. Malice grinned. She might not be able to kill the people Lorna cared for, but she could give them to her boss.

It was almost the same thing, only much slower.


	17. Chapter 17

Charles wheeled away from Cerebro, feeling beyond frustrated. Whatever it was that was possessing Lorna made it difficult to get a lock on her. Every time he thought he'd managed it, her image began to blur. He wondered if Cerebro read it as tracking two different people at a time, something it was not built to support.

He put the helmet down and tried to quiet the screaming headache that was ripping through him. Usually, when people's minds were being tapped by a telepath or someone similar, he could find that. He'd even come across people who were being monitored who didn't even know they were being monitored.

So this, this was new. Whatever mutant gift this particular individual had, it was something that they had not come across before. It was not a comforting thought in any way shape or form. Not when it was messing with his staff.

When the doors opened, Magda jumped to her feet. Her face was worn and pinched from crying, and she was hastily wiping away the last of her tears. The look she gave him was so hopeful, but it shattered just by the look in his eyes.

She sat down again weakly, and rubbed her hands together. Charles wheeled next to her and put a hand on her shoulder.

"Alex will find her," he said.

"I know, I know," Magda said, "It's just...Lorna's just so...she's not really...this isn't supposed to happen to her."

"This sort of thing isn't supposed to happen to anyone, even in the mutant world," said Charles, "It's something we haven't come across before."

She stopped rubbing her hands together and closed her eyes.

"Charles, this wasn't what her life was supposed to be like," she said, "It was supposed to be good, and normal, and not this."

Charles hesitated. Her words sounded hauntingly similar to Peter and Wanda's. At least they weren't lying to her anymore. Now it appeared that that dubious honor was something that belonged only to Magda.

"Magda, from the minute Lorna woke up one day and realized that she could bend metal, her life was never going to be normal," he said.

It had actually been before that, been from the moment that her mother had begun a relationship with Erik. No daughter of Erik was going to be allowed to live a normal life. Even if Erik had not found out about her existence, others would.

And that was a possibility that did frighten him.

"As normal as possible," Magda said, "She could've kept teaching here, I know that. She had a place here, had a purpose. She could've gotten past everything that happened to her when she was younger and-"

"Gotten past it?" asked Charles.

She looked at him, the corners of her mouth turned down. It might have been the beginning of a frown or a scowl, Charles wasn't sure which. He knew that this was unlikely to be the right time, but there may not be another good time.

He needed to say something before it was too late.

"Magda, we don't get past things like that," he said.

He thought of Raven and was tempted, not for the first time, to use Cerebro to find her. He'd thought about it in the past, but he'd known, in his heart of hearts, if she wanted to talk to him, she'd come home.

And it hurt that, every year, she didn't.

"She hasn't gotten past what happened with Wanda and Peter any more than you have," he said.

"I am...I'm working on accepting what happened and-" said Magda.

"Getting over it?" he asked.

Magda looked at the floor.

"Of course not," she said, "They're my children Charles. Nothing that I do will ever fix the way that I acted towards them. Nothing. I will never be a part of their lives again, not really. You don't get over that."

She shook her head.

"But that was my fault," she said, "What happened to Lorna was not her fault. It was barely even something she had a choice in. She was a child when she went with them. She just, she didn't want to ever lose them."

Magda swallowed and licked her lips.

"I'm not sure if she knows I know this, but she loved them more than she loved me," she said, "I don't mind. I know what I was like back then. Too distracted, distressed, upset. But I think she figured out pretty quick that she wasn't going to be able to be with them and me. And yet...she kept choosing them. and I understand, it's just..."

She swallowed again.

"And it is unlikely that Lorna will ever regain the relationship that she had with her brother and sister," Magda said, "Not because of anything she's done, but just because they don't see things the same way anymore. She's grown up, started to get her own opinions. And they don't match Peter and Wanda's any more."

Perhaps he hadn't given Magda credit for everything that she'd understood.

"I just don't want her to wish for something that will never happen again," Magda said, "I can't just give her a bunch of hope and encourage that, and nurture that, when I know it's not going to happen. It's going to be painful either way, but I just want her to accept that life is never going to be the same, and to get on with the amazing life that she has right now."

Charles closed his eyes.

"And as for Peter and Wanda, I would sell my soul if it could get them off the pat they've taken," she said, "I would. But I can't. and I know, all too well, that I'm not the one they listen to. I haven't been for many years. And if I tell them not to do something, I know they won't..."

Her voice choked and Charles opened his eyes.

"Never mind," she said, wiping away more tears, "But they need to understand that, if they're not willing to stop what they're doing, they won't have a relationship with her and...if this is how it's going to be..."

She bowed her head, not bothering to wipe away the tears anymore.

"I'd rather they just stay away," she wept.

Charles reached over and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"I have, in the past, questioned a few of your decisions concerning your children," he said, choosing his words carefully, "But those are not my decisions to make-"

"No," Magda said, her voice low, "They're not."

"That being said, I know that you love your children, and I know how much it cost you to tell me what you just told me," Charles said, "You made mistakes that you don't think they'll forgive you for. One of them has though: life may change yet again."

She didn't look up. She had a right to be skeptical though, and Charles did not grudge her that.

"But I want you to understand that it doesn't work like that," he said, "Brothers and sisters...it just doesn't work like that. We will never stop wishing for things to be different, for us to be closer. Or just to be the way we were."

Magda wiped away the last of her tears. Charles kept his hand where it was.

"I need to contact Alex, tell him that I can't find her," he said, "We'll see if he's found anything."

She nodded and Charles released her shoulder. He was about to reach out psychically to Alex when his pager went off. Charles frowned and looked at the beeping light. He was rarely ever paged by anyone but Alex or Hank, and it was rare for it to be about school matters. It got worse when he saw it was an emergency.

Leaving Magda behind he hurried up the stairs into the lobby. He could hear one of the teachers arguing with someone.

"-well that may be true, but I don't know you, and I'm not going to let you push me into getting into the upper levels."

Perhaps it was an angry parent, and the teacher had paged him in a blind panic. He didn't want to deal with this while Lorna was in the woods, possessed with some creature, but the could probably wrap this up quickly. He was nearly around the corner when he heard a voice that ripped inside of him and tore him apart.

"Listen. I don't care what you have to do, I don't care what your protocol is, but one way or another I am going to see my brother in the next five minutes!"

Charles jerked around the corner, and one word left his lips, raw and painful.

"Raven?"

She turned, and her yellow eyes met his. He'd thought about this moment for many, many years. He'd hoped that they would hug, that she would tell him that she was sorry, and he could say that he was sorry. Hoped that they could hug, and he could show her the school, show her that he had managed to make something out of their old childhood home.

That wasn't what happened. Instead of hearing words of greeting, he saw how she swallowed, how utterly crushed she looked. Had she not expected to see him so soon? What was it that she had expected?

And suddenly, Charles realized what this was. She wasn't here because she wanted to see him, wasn't here because she wanted to ask how things had been. Wasn't here for him. She was here for something else, and she would have preferred to stay away.

He felt his smile waver, and he bit the inside of his cheek. One of his hands gripped his armrest. He tried to rationalize it, tell himself that he shouldn't be so disappointed, that maybe this was something different, that at least he knew she was still among the living.

It still hurt more than anything he'd ever felt.

"Do you want to go to my office?" he asked.

The words came out stronger than he wanted them to. The teacher gave him a quick look, and Charles nodded briefly. Charles turned and began heading towards his office, the sound of shoes on the floor the only real indication that Raven was following him at all.

He rolled into his office and turned around. It was only then that he realized that someone had followed them in. He nearly choked when he saw Logan behind her, his arms crossed behind his back.

"You do recognize me, dontcha bub?" asked Logan.

"And you don't?" Charles managed.

"No," Logan growled.

"I fished him out of the river," Raven said, "Maybe he has memory loss?"

No. That wasn't what it was at all. He cleared his throat quickly.

"We'll discuss this at another time," he said, "I suppose that I should be asking why you're here."

He couldn't keep the sadness out of his last few words. Raven looked away. So he'd been right.

"We're trackin some people," Logan said, "It looks like they headed this way and are tryin ta set up base."

"What?" asked Charles.

This was news, and of course it was not welcome. He quickly though to different places were they could hide on his property, and grew cold.

"Where?" he asked.

"We think the woods," Raven said, "The place is huge, and they could hide there. Is Hank still here or Alex?"

"They're already in the woods," Charles said.

"Why?" asked Raven.

He rested his head in his hands.

"We have a bit of a situation there," he said.


	18. Chapter 18

The closer they got to the origin of the scent, the louder the noises became. Erik no longer had to let Hank lead the way, and instead drew level with him. It would certainly rankle him if he took the lead, not that that was a major consideration. He'd do it if he wanted to and watch as Hank grit his teeth at the disrespect. Hank would say nothing though. Like Alex, he had been trained well by Charles to do the correct thing, even if it cost him his sanity.

He could see Alex chafing against the restraints. Once, Alex had been the most impetuous boy he'd ever met. Erik wasn't sure what it was that had changed him, whether it was the war or Charles's constant training. Perhaps it had been a bit of both, but Alex was less likely to make emotional decisions now. His eyes were focused solely on the outcome of the mission.

But he didn't do it. Hank had better senses, better reflexes, and to walk into a viper's nest blind would only destroy them both. So he quietly let Hank take the lead, sweeping his eyes over the woods. The noises were getting louder with each step, which meant that any extra weapons they had at their disposal would be useful.

The past few hours were not ones that he wanted to repeat ever again. Hank's words had been pointed, and had hit far too close to home. Yes, Lorna was his child. Yes, Wanda and Peter were also his. Could he ever acknowledge it? No. Not now, and not like this.

Not that his children had any problems showing their emotional vulnerability. Wanda and Peter were so on edge, so concerned for their sister, that it hurt to watch. Everyone in the group knew that they were affected, although it was clear that Cannonball and Karma didn't know the reason behind it. Lorna had, apparently, not wanted to talk about it very much.

The same was probably true of Wanda and Peter when it came to the emotional attachment that Alex had to Lorna. It was unlikely they'd noticed, but whenever something major had happened, Lorna had always gone to the back room to talk to him. At first Erik had suspected it was friendship, close friendship, but not a relationship.

Then he realized that Alex was the one to know something was wrong with Lorna, to know that she wasn't acting herself. He'd been in her room when she knocked him out. Erik wasn't certain, but he had a strong feeling that the two of them were romantically entangled.

Not that it really mattered. Erik had long ago forfeited his right to comment on her life, and then forfeited it again when she had chosen to stay with Charles and learn geometry instead of how to protect her kind. It was so much going to waste, first what she could do for her species, then again at the man she was giving her heart to. Such a waste.

But the noises kept getting louder, kept thundering in his ears. It didn't sound like construction per say, although there was plenty of metal that was being beaten and clinking together. It was loud enough that he knew that they were close, that they were going to step within the view of whatever monsters were planning this soon.

He crouched down and Hank dropped full to the ground. Creeping forward was difficult like this, and he cursed the fact that his joints were not as strong as they had been. It wasn't bad, not yet, but he knew another ten years would render his ability to do anything other than stride confidently into a room difficult.

At the moment, he still had the ability to be an active member of the field, and Hank didn't notice. They moved up to what looked like a crest and, still keeping low to the ground, peered over the edge.

It looked like an encampment of some kind, but it appeared very temporary. There were several guards milling about with expensive weaponry. He recognized the insignia and the masks: The Hellfire Club. They always felt the need to dress their hired muscle in uniforms.

In the middle of it was what looked like a generator with several vials of a clear liquid. A pale, sinister-looking man was loading them into it one by one, his movements light and delicate. It was odd to describe someone as "sinister-looking," it sounded far too comic-book, but it seemed like an appropriate description of the man below him.

"Know him?" Hank murmured.

"No," said Erik.

It was true. He'd never seen the man before in his life. He would have remembered someone like that. He was intensely clinical-looking, and ever since Auschwitz Erik had had an innate hatred of people who looked like that. As a young man Hank had narrowly escaped that hatred due to his youth and bumbling ineptitude.

"Thought you were in close with the Hellfire Club," Hank said.

"We tried not to be," he replied.

One of the tents opened, and Erik was surprised to see Emma step out. She was dressed in her customary white, her blonde hair low and flowing. She wasn't wearing an evening dress though, opting instead for boots, a pant suit, and what looked like a white trench coat.

"She's dressed really inappropriately for the woods," Hank muttered.

"I doubt she owns anything that isn't white," said Erik.

Hank raised an eyebrow.

"Know her?" he asked.

"Don't you?"

"I have suspicions, but I need confirmation," Hank said impatiently.

Erik shook his head.

"Emma Frost," he said.

"So she survived?" asked Hank.

He shook his head again. They were really behind the curve, weren't they?

"No," he said, "This is her daughter."

Hank nodded and narrowed his eyes.

"She's incredibly young," he said.

"She's somewhere in her twenties," Erik said.

"Try twenty-one or twenty-two," said Hank, "And she's White Queen already? Not good."

"She's not as intelligent as people credit her for," said Erik, "She has an endgame in mind, but she's sloppy in getting there."

"What makes you say that?" Hank asked.

"She bankrolled us, and then stole biological weapons," Erik said, "She's like a dog chasing after cards, and she doesn't care how many bumpers she rips off getting there."

There was silence.

"That sounds like a very dangerous individual," said Hank.

"Not as long as she's not going after mutants," Erik said, "And she's got her mother's hatred of humans, if not her devotion to the cause. She wants something different out of life."

"And what's that?" Hank asked.

There was a moment when Erik wondered if he should tell Hank. Emma had been a poor ally, but assisting the X-men in any way wasn't something he wanted to make a habit of. However, just like he'd let Hank lead, there were other issues he had to focus on.

"Stryker's death," he said.

"So, whatever this is will kill Stryker?" Hank asked.

"I don't know," said Erik irritably, "All I know is she wanted quite a bit of Agent Orange."

"Yes, we know that too," Hank said, "That and radioactive material."

Now that was surprising. He looked over at the way Emma walked over to the man, exchanging a few words with him. He nodded a bit and she walked away, apparently to talk to the guards. There was something stiff in her posture, something dignified and haughty.

However, even from the distance he was in, he could tell it was an act. It wasn't even Emma pretending to be her mother, the act that he was used to. It was something else, a slight twitch in her posture , as though she were trying to save face when confronting something she couldn't control.

"She thinks she's going to die," Erik said.

He remarked on it as easily as talking about the weather. Hank looked at him in surprise.

"What?" he asked.

"She doesn't think she's going to live long. Maybe she's sick," Erik said, "Maybe the thing they're building will kill her. Perhaps the people around her. I'm not sure, but she thinks she's going to die."

Hank continued to look at him skeptically, but Erik really didn't have time for that.

"I suggest we attempt to tell your friends what we found," he said.

"Right," Hank said.

He began to move away.

"We just have to get to some place high enough to get a signal out," he said, "And if you suggest climbing a tree then I swear I'll leave you."

"What do you have against trees?" Erik asked, "Scared of heights?"

Hank narrowed his eyes.

"Not scared," he said, "Just wary of being a stationary target with nowhere to go but down."

* * *

"I'll need to send out feelers to Alex about this," Charles said, wheeling down the hall, "The walkies we gave them don't cover the distance."

"I still don't understand why you all are out in the woods in the first place," Raven said, "What was bad enough that made members of the X-men and Brotherhood get together to go out there."

Charles didn't look at Raven when she spoke. The whole situation seemed so surreal, so detached. He hadn't been able to talk to her, not really, and Logan was there too. He didn't remember anything, which was both a blessing and a curse, so he was talking to him like a stranger. After everything they had been through, that hurt in its own twisted way. Not as much as the situation with Raven, but still.

Now they were going out to fight people who were using his woods as a launching pad for an attack. He felt like he was in the middle of a dream that you had after getting really bad food poisoning.

"Something took hold of one of my teachers," he said, "Made her attempt to kill two other members of staff before running off into the woods. Some Brotherhood members were here getting treated for injuries and volunteered."

It wasn't anywhere near the whole story, but he didn't have the stomach to give more information.

"So one o ya teachers went postal, huh?" asked Logan.

"When I say something took hold of her, I mean literally," Charles said, remembering how much of a pain Logan could be, "Not a telepath, but something else."

He saw Logan and Raven share a look.

"What aren't you telling me?" he asked.

"Did...this teacher, who started doing things," Raven asked, "What did they...did they get black eyes, maybe the veins around their neck started looking a bit like a black choker?"

Charles paused. Alex had briefly shown him what Lorna had looked like before they split into teams and went after her. Charles remembered the memory that he had been shown vividly, simply because it was so grotesque.

"Yes, she did," Charles said.

"Looks like Essex's brought Malice into play," Logan grunted, "Not good."

"Malice?" asked Charles.

He felt slightly lost and began reaching out for Alex. He should hear whatever came next. It was more difficult than he'd thought.

"She, we think it's a she, doesn't really have a body," Raven said, "We've come across her once or twice before, always possessing other people. Dr. Essex uses her as his enforcer. He's working with the Hellfire Club right now, designing something. Whatever he designs usually ends up killing a lot of people."

He continued to try to reach out for Alex. Worry was growing by the minute. If Alex had felt Charles's psychic nudge, he would have responded right away.

"Usually he brings her in ta get the lay o the land, or to take things," Logan said, "Not sure what Essex would want ta take."

"All we know is that Emma Frost was looking into Alex a few days ago," said Raven, "But I can't imagine why they'd want him."

Charles finally made contact, and was met with the gaping darkness that always signaled unconsciousness.

"It looks like we're about to find out," he said.


	19. Chapter 19

As they looked for higher ground, Hank began to get the sneaking suspicion that he might have to actually climb a tree. Given his earlier speech to Magneto it would be incredibly embarrassing, not to mention a little degrading, but he was beginning to wonder if he actually had a choice in the matter.

_Hank? _

_Charles?_ Hank thought.

He nearly laughed out loud. At least he wouldn't have to climb a tree now. He stopped walking and, when Magneto turned and looked at him, Hank tapped his head. Magneto nodded knowingly.

_Yes,_ Charles thought, _We have something of a problem. _

_I know. I was just about to tell you, _Hank thought,_ Emma Frost is here._

_Wait, what?"_

_Yeah, her and what looks like a small militia,_ Hank thought, _I was going to tell you, but our walkies broke down. I need to improve these._

There was a slight pause.

_That does coincide with what I've been told,_ Charles thought, _But Hank, I need to know if you know where Alex and the others are._

Hank suddenly began to feel sick. If he didn't know exactly what they were doing, and Charles didn't know either, then it was bad. In their current situation, a non-response usually only meant one of two things: death, or capture. He sincerely hoped it was the latter, although that was still bad.

On the other end of the connection, he could feel Charles sighing. It seemed like he knew what Hank's shock meant too.

_Last I knew, Sam and Xi'an had found what looked like a camp the thing possessing Lorna set up,_ Hank thought.

_It's called Malice_, Charles thought.

How do you know that?

_I'll explain it to you in a minute_, Charles thought, _Right now, we need to concentrate on finding the others. _

_Right, Hank thought, sniffing the air, I'll see what I can-_

He stopped, and took another sniff.

_What's wrong?_

Hank took one more sniff, just to be sure.

_I think I just found Alex,_ he thought, _And, given where I'm standing right now, that's not a good thing._

* * *

Malice was feeling angrier than she had been in a long time as she carried Alex to the meeting point. Each minute made her feel as though it weren't possible to get any angrier but then, mere minutes later, she found that it was possible.

She shifted Alex. Lorna was not entirely weak, she had good muscles on her legs and her shoulders were fairly strong, but Alex was a big man. Malice could just imagine him at breakfast now, scarfing down carbs and swallowing three pots of coffee at a time. He'd probably been so proud of the muscle that weighed more than fat, but now he was a dead weight.

In the past such trifles hadn't bothered her. The straining muscles were not her own, the pulled tendons, all of it had been unimportant. A broken rib or a dislocated arm would have made things difficult, but they hadn't been hers. Now she was feeling them all clawing at the edge of her subconscious.

When she got to the edge of the camp, she didn't bother to hide her presence. The guards immediately recognized her from her black lips, eyes, and veins. They moved aside for her, which was rather good for them. They, unlike her, were unimportant. There were times when Essex would even let her kill a few to keep in shape.

So she breezed past them, too proud to ask them for help. The only words she'd spoken to them concerned Essex's current location. They let her know with as few words as possible, which was good, since she was still feeling in the mood to destroy them all.

Essex was towards the middle of the camp, with the Frost bitch nearby. She was looking at him with intense eyes, almost as though to make sure he didn't renege on their deal. Stupid girl. It wasn't like she could do anything if that was what Essex wanted.

He had his back turned to her when she approached, and she slung Alex down a few feet away to announce her presence. Essex turned immediately, his face brightening in delight.

"Malice, you are indeed a treasure," he said.

Malice smiled, but she bitterly remembered his threat from only an hour or so earlier. He walked up to Alex and crouched down. She watched him move his head back and forth, checking the bruises and seeing if anything was broken.

"You might want to send some people back about three hundred yards to get his friends," Malice said, "I tied them up for you, but I couldn't drag them and him."

"And why do I care about them?" he asked, not looking up.

She shrugged.

"Either we do something about them, or they come after us later," Malice said, "I figured you'd want some uninterrupted time with this one."

Essex nodded, still not looking at her. He snapped his fingers and a few guards walked up. Malice gave them instructions and turned back to Essex. He finished his examination and looked at her, absolutely beaming.

"Perfect, perfect," he said, "You really seem to have knocked him out rather well. Use any of the treats I left for you?"

"Your special tear gas compound," Malice said, "We can just flush his eyes out with milk when he wakes up."

"I'll leave my examination of his retinas for later then," said Essex, "I usually leave that for last, figuring out the way the brain channels send messages for his particular mutation would be rather boring I suspect."

Malice could just feel Lorna begin to scrabble at her brain, no doubt worrying what that would entail. Good.

"And I would like him to wake up first, if only to ask him a few questions about his background," Essex said, "When should he be up?"

"Less than an hour?" shrugged Malice.

"I'll set my watch and we'll immediately-"

"Finish working on this?"

Emma's words were sharp, cutting through the conversation. Essex's smile froze and he turned around slowly. To Malice's surprise, Emma's expression didn't change when she saw the look in Essex's eyes. She was either incredibly brave, arrogant, or stupid.

Probably the last one.

"Of course," he said, "Of course. But a quick conversation can't be remiss. This is an amazing scientific discovery, you must admit!"

Emma crossed her arms and walked up to him, looking down at the ground for a minute, her lips pursing. When her eyes flicked up to his, Malice quickly reassessed the woman. There was something very, very cold in her eyes, as though she was drawing from a pit of pure hatred.

"Our deal was that Stryker would be dead by the end of the day," she said, her voice as frigid as her words, "And if you stop to talk to every one of Xavier's pets you capture, then I think we're going to run out of time. This isn't the solstice Nathaniel."

Malice smiled inwardly. Now this, whatever was happening here, this was interesting.

"Now, I suggest you leave your little pet project for later," Emma said.

Essex watched her for a moment more. He reached out one of his pale hands to touch her cheek. Malice wanted to wince. Back when she'd had a body, even though it was rapidly decaying, Essex's hands had been unusually dry and clammy. He'd only ever touched her to take her blood pressure, temperature, to insert an IV or, as she later found, cut her open, but it had been entirely unpleasant. She'd never been able to fully resist the urge to pull away.

Emma didn't flinch.

"Why such hasty hatred my dear?" he asked, "You have never told me why you know. Given what you're asking of me, a simple why would be nice."

She smiled.

"Once upon a time, there was a widdle girl named Emma Silverfox," she said.

She turned away, and Sinister's fingers slipped off her cheek. Emma touched the machine lovingly, caressing its side.

"And she had a beautiful mother who would come and visit her, and a wise older sister who took such good care of her," she gushed, "And she loved them very, very much. Nobody else mattered."

Emma began tapping her chin with her finger, and Malice turned her eyes to Essex. He was looking at her with unrestrained curiosity, and a bit of fascination.

"But when she got older, a bad man named Stryker killed her mother and cut her up into little bits," she said.

Emma turned away from the generator.

"And then all widdle Emma had was her big sister. If her big sister said, go jump off a cliff Emma, Emma would've done it," she said.

There was a prickle of unease, and at first Malice thought she was just unnerved by whatever the hell was happening with Emma. Then she realized that the unease was coming from Lorna who, no doubt, was watching all of the proceedings with growing concern.

She frowned, and then realized that Lorna and Emma were, more or less, the same age. Was it unnerving her just how crazy this woman, who was old enough to have seen the same movies as she had growing up, worn the same kind of clothes, done her hair the same kind of way, was?

Malice maneuvered herself so she could get a better view. Anything to distress Lorna.

"And then Stryker found her sister, and killed her too, and her sister's boyfriend," Emma said, "And poor widdle Emma was left all alone, knowing her sister died terribly."

Emma crossed her arms again, fixing those ice-eyes on Essex.

_Do they...do I...do we need...do they need me?_

The thought wasn't Malice's, and she grimaced, trying to push it out.

"Which is funny, not what happened to my family of course, but because that's what's going to happen to Alexander Summers in about two minutes if you don't finish this goddamn machine," she said.

Essex's curiosity vanished, replaced by anger.

"If you think-"

"I'm a telepath," Emma said, sounding bored, "Thinking is what I do. Now, he is unconscious, so, as amusing as it would be to tell him to cut his own throat or something of the sort, I can't. But what I can do is stop the subconscious methods his brain is using to regulate his breathing, and his heart, and so on and so forth."

She smiled, and the scrabbling in Malice's brain began in earnest. She winced from it while simultaneously fighting the pull to do something, anything to protect Alex. It felt like she was going to be ill again, and that was not something that she had wanted, not something that she had predicted when she had originally grabbed the green-haired woman as a host.

"You could try to kill me now, I have no doubt about that," she said.

Emma cracked her neck and turned to diamond.

"But you would have a rather hard time figuring out how to do that right now, even with all of your expertise," she said, "We've worked well together so far, but if for some reason I think that this machine doesn't do what you promised me, I will kill him, and I will like it. You'll have to do an autopsy instead of a vivisection, which, given your reputation, would come as something of a downer to you."

Essex glared at her, his hands clenched in rage.

"I need him," he seethed.

"And I needed my mother and sister too, especially my sister," she said, "But nobody really gave a damn about that, and I don't really give a damn about what you want with Alexander."

When she smiled, her diamond teeth sparkled.

"Do we understand each other?" she asked.

In the few seconds between the question and the answer, Malice could feel her heart rate increase. She could once again feel the urge to protect him, to save him from this conversation and the two people in front of her.

"Yes," Essex said tightly.

The urge relaxed a little, but Malice could still feel Lorna's heart thumping against her ribcage.

"Good," Emma said.

She took a step back, but stayed in her diamond form.

"Now," she said, "Back to work."


	20. Chapter 20

When Peter woke up, his head felt like it had a knot on it the size of a baseball. His eyes didn't feel like they were on fire any more, but they certainly felt like someone had planted a cactus in them. He grabbed the nearest canteen he could and tried to flush it out.

It didn't set things back to normal, but he felt like he'd managed to pull a few of the stickers out. He still had to blink a few times before he could get a good grasp on his surroundings. The sky had started to turn red and orange, so that meant he'd been out for an hour or two. Not great.

He sat up and began counting the people with him. Wanda, Karma, and Cannonball. Three where there had been four and, of course, Alex was missing.

"It would be you, wouldn't it?" he muttered.

Peter got to his feet and shook Wanda. She opened her eyes, and they looked even more bloodshot than he imagined his to be. He tried to offer her what was left in the canteen, but she waved it away. Wanda tapped the corners of her eyes, which glowed briefly. When the glow subsided the veins went away.

"Didn't know you could do that," Peter said.

"Don't get your hopes up," she said, "I still suck at actually healing people. I'd probably end up doing more harm than good."

She got to her feet.

"Again," she muttered.

At first, Peter had to think hard to figure out what she meant. Then he remembered watching as she tried to heal Lorna's face after a minor accident while they were on the run. Lorna had ended up with a bloody nose that hadn't quit for a full five minutes.

He cleared his throat and looked at the two X-men. They were still out, and Peter had the feeling that they would have to rescue Alex now. However, something had to be said.

"You know this isn't what I wanted, right?" he asked.

Wanda knelt by Cannonball and put a hand to his eyes. There was a slight glow, but Cannonball didn't wake up.

"I'm not angry at you for what you wanted," she said, "Just what you did."

"Intentions don't count for much, do they?"

"Not a damn thing."

Peter sighed as Wanda moved onto Karma.

"I know this isn't really the time-"

"It really isn't," Wanda said.

"But I, well, Wanda, I'm sorry I let all this other stuff get in the way of our family," he said, "I'm sorry we lost Lorna, and I'm sorry I lost you now."

She stopped, her hand an inch from Karma's face.

"This isn't what losing me looks like," she said, "When you've really, really lost me, you'll never see me again. Don't think that isn't coming."

Even though he knew her words were supposed to be a threat, they gave him hope. It meant that he hadn't lost everything just yet.

"I'm not trying to lose you," he said.

"Peter," she said, the words frustrated and twisted, "Do you have any idea how many times I tried to justify everything that happened in my head? All those screwed up things we saw, the things we did."

She shook her head.

"And God knows I tried to justify leaving home, losing Lorna, killing people. And for a long time, I actually explained it away to myself," Wanda said, "Because the justification was always that we had to stay together. Even Lorna…I thought that leaving her at the Institute was still a safe way to go about things, that it was trying to keep us all together in a different way."

She touched Karma's face, and her eyes glowed briefly, twitching beneath their eyelids.

"And it seemed like it was enough back then," Wanda said, "Not any more though."

Peter looked down at his hands, his mind turning her words over and over in his head.

"When did I go wrong?" he asked.

"We," Wanda corrected, "You screwed up, but I followed you. Doesn't make me any less angry at you for what you did, but I know I'm to blame for some of that."

He looked at his twin and, in a way that it hadn't quite hit him before, he realized that, after today, he might never see her again. She might breeze out of his life, and he would have to learn to live without her.

Peter couldn't imagine that. He couldn't imagine a life that Wanda wasn't in, but when he was seventeen he couldn't imagine a life without Lorna. He'd adjusted, and the thought left him feeling sick. The seventeen-year-old Peter would have never been able to adjust to life without his baby sister. Losing both of them would have killed him.

Or maybe it already had, and Peter was only what remained afterwards.

"I shouldn't have broken into the Pentagon," he said.

"No," Wanda agreed.

She looped Karma's arm over her shoulder.

"Let's get moving," she said, "I don't know if that thing is coming back, but we should probably try to move. See if we can head it off and find out what happened to Alex."

"And you took the slender girl and left me with the big heavy guy," said Peter.

She raised her eyebrow at him. Peter supposed that, when you were seeking forgiveness for your past sins, you probably shouldn't go around whining about tasks that the other person assigned you to do. Sometimes he wondered if he had any sense at all, even a little.

He reached down and picked up Cannonball, putting his arm around his shoulder. Cannonball was big, but it wasn't as bad as he'd thought it would be. At least he wasn't built like a brick shithouse. That distinction went to Alex, Lorna's boyfriend.

Peter made a face at the thought. He didn't have the right to question any of his little sister's decisions, he was getting that, but he stood by what he'd said. Alex was an asshole, and he had no right to date someone as brilliant as Lorna.

He chewed that particular thought over in his head as he continued to carry Cannonball. Lorna had always struck him as the kind of girl who was going to be brilliant. She was smart and liked to read. He'd known that she was going to be something, and when they'd run away from home he'd ensured that there was almost zero chance of her getting the education she needed.

And Wanda. She was brilliant too, but differently from Lorna. She hadn't belonged working in diners like they'd done before they met the Brotherhood, but she'd been destined for something greater. Peter had no idea what it was, especially since her temper had gotten more irritable since they'd joined the Brotherhood, but it was definitely something.

And him? He thought about the question. Probably not. He'd never been one to take life too seriously, and that was probably why he wasn't as brilliant as his sisters. He'd been good at being their brother though. He'd been very proud of it once upon a time.

Now though, now he was pretty sure he'd lost that ability. But it wasn't as though he had nothing. He was a good member of the Brotherhood, and he knew that he had value there. He'd done a good job over the years, leading raids, following orders. He'd been a good soldier.

Was that enough though? Once upon a time, he'd thought it was. He'd craved Magneto's approval, and gloried when he got it. He'd wanted his sister to be exalted in her place too and, when Lorna had still been with them, to be like them. He was so sure that he was better than them though, knew more. And that was what had gotten them into this mess.

He watched Wanda's back, still dragging Cannonball, and then it struck him. There was nothing he could say, nothing he could do, to make things as they had been. He'd run out of options, run out of time. Peter wasn't seventeen anymore, and it was nine years too late to try to get off the crash course he'd put himself on.

Peter would never be a good brother again. After knowing that it was his involvement in the Brotherhood that had torn them apart, he doubted that he'd be a good solider again. One had supported the other, however unconsciously. And that left him wondering whether or not he would be anything at all ever again.

But when the dart missed his ear, the whizzing noise filling his ear, Peter stopped wondering about who he was or where he was going. He dropped Cannonball and sped up, slamming into the sniper that had fired at him. Because, whether or not he was a brother or a soldier, he still knew how to kick ass.

And he had a feeling that, one way or another, that was a skill that was going to serve him well.

* * *

Like her brother, Wanda didn't hesitate to drop Karma at the sound of attack. She was dead weight at the moment, and dead weight had to be avoided in battle. She could protect her better this way, as well as Cannonball, considering that her brother had run off. Surprise surprise.

She heard movement and saw that Peter had tackled a sniper. Another one was raising their gun, and for a moment, Wanda frowned. She recognized the uniform, but the strange mask that they were wearing was new. Either way, it was definitely Hellfire.

Furious now, Wanda sent a blast their way. It knocked them backwards into a third sniper, all but knocking the mask off their face. It appeared that there were only three, but Wanda wasn't about to assume the coast was clear. The last time she had assumed that, she'd found herself with a face full of tear gas.

She made a slashing motion with her hand to Peter, who dropped to the ground. Wanda sent out a wave of energy in every direction. It wasn't enough to knock someone out, she wasn't powerful enough for that, but it would tell if anyone was in the area. If anyone had been standing, or crouching, then she would have heard a whimper or something similar.

As it was, she heard nothing and relaxed. Wanda motioned to Peter, who got up again. He casually grabbed the shirt of the man he'd tackled, lifting him into the air and cracking his neck.

"Now," he said, "What's the Hellfire Club doing at the Institute? And on a school night no less."

The man's head rolled and Peter shook him.

"Hey, it's not pre-school," he said, "No nap time. It's time for a pop quiz. Subject: let's tell the man what he wants, so he doesn't smack me in the face. Did you do the reading last night?"

Wanda rolled her eyes, even as a grin tugged at her lips. Peter always seemed to be taking it too far, but there was still a boyish innocence in most of what she said. The smile died when she remembered the life that that boyish attitude had led them into.

"Doesn't matter," Peter said, "Question number one: what are you doing here? And please, let's make this quick. I've got other asses to kick you know."

The guard's eyes focused on Peter.

"Not scared of you," he managed.

"Well, that's wrong, and rather hurtful," Peter said.

He slammed him into a tree, and casually leaned into his grip with one arm to keep him there.

"See, I'm pretty fast," he said, "And I've often wondered, how fast can I break bones? I mean, can I do it so fast that they won't be able to feel it or-?"

"You're not scary," the man hissed, "I'd rather get every bone in my body broken than have Sinister and Malice find out I ratted them out."

"Who?" Peter asked.

The man pursed his lips. Peter sighed and slammed his head into the tree, knocking him out.

"Waste of time," he said.

"At least we have names," Wanda said.

"Yeah, names we know nothing about," snorted Peter.

_Actually, I think I can help you there. _


	21. Chapter 21

Alex woke up, groggy and disoriented. It took him a minute to get a firm grasp on his surroundings, he'd learned a lot of meditation exercises over the past few years for this specific purpose, but when he did he wasn't surprised. Given the last thing he'd seen before he blacked out, being a prisoner was actually one of the better outcomes. Not the best, but it would have been too much to expect to wake up with the X-men having already rescued him.

He rolled his shoulders, trying to figure out the damage. The faint scent of dairy reached his nostrils. It was then that he realized that his eyes weren't hurting. Someone had flushed his eyes out with milk, which was the most appropriate method to deal with tear gas that Alex had come across. They had also spilt some on his uniform, which was really annoying, because that was going to be difficult to get out.

Then they had cuffed him, which wasn't good. Usually people were dumb and only cuffed his wrists, he'd learned how to get out of those, but foot cuffs too? They weren't taking any chances. He felt a bit like a snake who had been trussed up. That or a turkey dinner. He couldn't quite decide and, in the end, decided that metaphors were for idiots.

He would have to get out of his handcuffs now and work on getting out of his foot cuffs later. His feet were so tightly chained that he wasn't sure he'd be able to get a blast of sufficient strength to break them without also blowing off his foot. Alex had always hated that aspect of his ability.

But, first things first, his hands. Alex had almost dislocated his wrist when the door opened. He looked up and saw Lorna, or whatever it was, walk in. She glanced at him and then sat down across from him, her legs crossed in an overly clinical way. It made him angrier every time he saw her, this mockery of the woman he loved.

"What the hell do you want?" he snapped.

It hesitated, and then cocked its head. Its black eyes seemed furrowed in concentration, looking for something. Alex glared back, and her lips moved soundlessly. Time ticked on, and Alex snorted in frustration.

"Fine," he said, "Be weird."

The words didn't seem to phase her, and she continued looking at him. He sighed, wondering if she was here because they knew he could dislocate his wrist. Maybe she was just there as a guard for a more general purpose, but it was already pissing him off. So he glared at her, and she looked back at him with those searching black eyes.

Then the door opened again, and a pale man walked in. The searching look in her eyes went away and hardened into obsidian. It was still creepy, but he could at least understand it. Judging by the way her eyes flicked the man though, it was easy to figure out that she wasn't the one in charge.

So he turned his glare on the man, who laughed.

"It appears your eyes have gotten much better," he said, "Which is wonderful. Malice here worked quite hard to get that out of your eyes."

Its name was Malice. Fitting, because that's what he was feeling at the moment.

"Excuse me if I'm less than grateful," he said.

"Yes, I thought you wouldn't be," said the man, "Now then, I am Dr. Nathaniel Essex, currently chief scientist for the Lords Cardinal of the Hellfire Club."

Now he had a name too, as well as a boss.

"So why doesn't Emma Frost come in here and interrogate me herself?" Alex spat.

Essex threw his head back and laughed, this one more genuine than the first. Malice looked amused too, which made him angry, because that was a Lorna expression. Somehow doing things that were Lorna-like was much worse than doing things that weren't like her. He'd have to look into that after he beat the shit out of Malice.

Without hurting Lorna of course. He still had to figure out how to do that.

"Emma Frost isn't in charge here," Essex said, "Well, perhaps a little, but no more than a child throwing a temper tantrum with her mother's favorite antique vase is. She's being humored, of course, but once the vase is secured the child is always punished."

"So what is going on?" asked Alex.

"Outside, in here, anywhere?" Essex asked, "Most of that really isn't important, but, for the moment, I'm looking into punishing a few people for Emma, and several hundred thousand more."

He inched closer. Alex inched back. Essex didn't seem overly concerned by this.

"But all I really want you to be concerned about right now is some of the finer details of your medical history," Essex said, "For instance, did you have your tonsils removed and, if so, at what age?"

Alex stared at him.

"Oh yes, yes, I can see the confusion," Essex said, "You see, this is for science. Getting your records from the bases you lived on as a child would attract far too much attention. After the foster system took you in, it appeared that, if you ever received any medical attention, they never kept track of it. Such lazy bookkeepers. You didn't get taken in by a good family though, which is a downright shame. You probably didn't even get your proper vaccinations."

Alex continued staring at him, and Essex moved a little closer. It was then that Alex realized that Essex hadn't blinked since he walked into the room.

"Now, the tonsils are, obviously, not that important," Essex said, "But I thought it would be a good question to break the ice, get things started. After that we can move onto more advanced things, like allergies, things like that. Really get some good background information stored up before I start my investigation."

Investigation. Alex felt like he was in the Marines again, staring at Stryker, wondering what was going to happen to him next. He'd wondered if he'd be released when it was all over, if he'd ever even be given something akin to a decent burial if it never ended. Would they send him back to Charles and Hank, who he'd listed as next of kin, or just cremate him?

And that was a feeling that Alex had vowed he would never feel ever again. So he did the first smart thing he could think of doing: he lashed out and smashed his head into Essex's as fast as possible. He used his legs as a battering ram bruising, and hopefully breaking, a rib by slamming them into Essex's chest.

Essex lost balance and fell onto the floor. Alex scrambled to get the higher ground, maybe even plant a foot on his face and destroy the damn thing.

"I really wouldn't do that."

He whipped around. Malice had stood up. One hand was hanging limply by her side, and the other hand held a knife. Instead of pointing it at him though, she was pressing the blade lightly against Lorna's neck. A thin red line was already appearing there, contrasting starkly with the black of the veins around her throat.

"I will apply more pressure," she said, "And when I finish cutting the artery that runs through here, you can watch, from over there, as she bleeds out."

He watched in horror as more blood began to well up on Lorna's throat. He made a move closer, and Malice hissed between her teeth.

"No, you can stay over there," she said, "You love this one, maybe as much as she loves you. But I can end things right now, and you'll never even know."

Her black lips curled over her teeth. Malice was grinding her teeth now.

"Now, I'd really prefer that we not do things that way since I'd then have to take the body of one of the guards," she said, "All of the female guards are elsewhere today, and I'd have to possess a man, who will smell considerably, but I guess we're both realizing now that you can't always get what you want."

She smiled, but there was something strange about it, forced.

"Now," she said, "Sit down and answer Essex's questions like a good boy."

For a moment, Alex considered disobeying. That frightened young Marine was still alive inside of him, desperately trying to find a way to make this not happen. He wanted, more than anything, to get himself out, to escape. He could hear that voice telling him that this wasn't what Lorna would want, that she would tell him to fight.

But that Marine had never known Lorna, not really. And if Alex let her die to save his own skin, he would never be able to come back from that. So, fighting every single instinct he'd developed since meeting Stryker, he sat down.

"Good," Malice said, "And, remember, it doesn't take much for me to slit her throat, or stab her, or any number of terrible things that I could do to her. And trust me, I think I'll actually enjoy it by now."

She removed the knife and walked up to him. Malice leaned over her, the blood from the surface wound on her neck dripping down onto his lap. Malice's wound, but Lorna's blood.

"Don't you ever, ever forget that," she snarled.

Malice withdrew and sat back down in her own place. The knife was held firmly in one of her hands, and she nodded. Essex got back up, looking less amused now and more angry. So this was what he really was. It was actually less creepy than when he was pretending to be nice.

"Now," Sinister sniffed, his voice cold, "Tell me about your tonsils, or Malice will have to find a new body, and I may even have to damage you."

Alex glared back at him. He didn't know how he could get out of this with both him and Lorna in one piece. He didn't know how to free Lorna from Malice. But he sure as hell was going to try, and hopefully, he'd find a way to smash Essex's face in for real in doing so.

But first he had to remember when they'd removed his damn tonsils.

* * *

_Do you have any idea what the machine does? _

_Hank shook his head, remembering at the last minute that Charles couldn't see him. Shortly after receiving Charles's message, he had returned to their observation point of the camp with Magneto. He'd been watching them for the past half hour, so it was frustrating that he knew so little. _

_Not really_, Hank thought, peering at the machine below him, _But they're loading it up with something that looks a bit like Agent Orange. I think there's something else in it too. _

_Any sign of radioactive material?_ Charles asked.

_Not that I'm aware_, thought Hank, _But I wouldn't rule it out. I think I saw hazmat suits earlier. But there's no sign of Alex either._

The last thought was laced with worry. If Alex hadn't been captured, then he had been killed. Hank tried to reassure himself against this possibility. After all, Charles said that they hadn't found a body. People usually didn't murder someone and then take the body. Not in their line of work. Not usually.

_I'm sure he's around,_ Charles thought, although there was worry in his tone too,_ But it looks like we're going to be a little blind for the assault. The others should be reaching you soon._

Hank sniffed the air and recognized Karma and Cannonball's scents coming towards him. They were only a few minutes out.

_Yeah_, he thought, _Sooner the better._


	22. Chapter 22

"They're only a few minutes out," Hank murmured, feeling slightly more cheerful, "Then we can do something."

"Such as?" Magneto asked, sounding bored.

He had to stop then, because he'd never been the strategist. All of that had been left, first to Magneto and Charles, and then to Alex. He wondered if he should ask Magneto for his opinion. He really didn't want to, asking Charles felt like it would be a smarter idea, but he didn't have a lay of the land. Not like he and Magneto did.

"I think I can probably disable whatever that is that Emma has that pale guy making," Hank muttered, "I haven't seen him recently, but whatever it is, it's not ready yet."

"Is that really our concern?" asked Magneto.

His tone was bored again, almost as though he were talking to a particularly persistent child. Hank sighed.

"We don't know what it does, so I'd prefer to shut it down," said Hank.

"I doubt it will affect us," Magneto said, "The only thing Emma Frost cares about in life is destroying Stryker. The X-men, the Brotherhood, they don't really matter to her."

The news came as a surprise to Hank. He looked down and spotted the white clad-figure moving jerkily among the guards.

"The father or the son?" asked Hank.

"The father, I believe," Magneto said, "There's a grandson too, Jason I think, and she might want him dead too."

"Why?"

Magneto snorted.

"It's actually rather simple," he said, "Stryker had her mother and sister killed. Perhaps experimented on her as well. It turned her rather vicious, if she wasn't already. the experience might have even damaged her sanity, I can't vouch for what she was like before it happened."

Again, there was that bored tone, and Hank was reminded why he didn't like Magneto.

"And now she wants them dead. I don't know how much of the bloodline wiped out, but the Stryker Jr. has been relatively quiet recently," Magneto said, "An odd change in behavior, but we have no idea how these people's minds work. So, I think she just wants them all dead, and I think that machine is the way to do it."

Hank swallowed, feeling that this particular Emma Frost might be considerably more dangerous than her mother. He glanced back at the machine.

"Can you guarantee that leaving it alone won't come back to bite us?" asked Hank.

Magneto didn't answer which, really, was an answer in and of itself. Hank drew himself up a little.

"Keeping that in mind, I don't want that much of a wild card at play here today," he said, "I think the other X-men will agree with me."

"Fine."

More boredom, but there was an edge of frustration too. Again, why was he so invested in all of this?

"Beyond your paranoia about the machine, we're going to need someone who can knock Lorna out instantly when they encounter her," mused Magneto, "Otherwise that thing, Malice I believe, will just bite her tongue open like she tried to do earlier."

"We'll have to keep her unconscious almost all the time once we get her," Hank said, "I don't think that we can risk letting her wake up until we know for certain that she's the one in control."

Magneto was quiet for a moment, obviously deep in thought.

"And, if we don't wake her up until we know, it's going to be rather difficult to figure out if we're successful," he said at last.

Hank winced.

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," he said, "But we should probably have a plan for when they get here. We've spent a lot of time not doing anything already."

Magneto sighed and began glancing over the camp. It wasn't searching, Hank had a feeling he'd already deduced what he needed to know, but more like he was refreshing his memory, confirming what he needed to do.

"I'm loathe to say this, but I think that we need to split up again," Magneto said, "There are too many aspects to this to go in there as a united force."

For once, Hank agreed with Magneto. The last time they split up they ended up with Alex getting captured. However, he was certainly right about the many aspects of this project. Trying to do one thing at a time would only end in disaster.

"I can take a strike team to try to dissemble the machine," Hank offered, "If Emma tries to use telepathy, Charles put in wards for us. We should be fine, but you're still the one with the greatest shielding."

"True, and she might be wondering where I am at this point," he said, "We can get a second group to cause a distraction, and then maybe send one person to get Alex. If Lorna's there too, then perhaps we won't have to search for her."

"Got it," Hank said.

He felt a slight mental nudge, and Hank immediately responded.

_Charles, I think we have a plan coming together,_ he thought, _We're going to have to split up again, which I don't really like, but I think it might be the best way._

_Perhaps,_ Charles thought, sounding a little uncomfortable, _But, once you all link up, I'd like you to try to wait for a few minutes before attacking. _

_What? Why?_

_Because I'm trying to get down there, along with the two people who warned me_, Charles thought, _We need greater numbers and I'm not sure how long my wards will hold up against an experienced telepath. _

_Charles, we might not be able to,_ Hank thought,_ They look like they're getting awfully comfortable, and we need to get down there before something happens to Alex, or something really bad goes down with this machine._

Charles sighed heavily.

_I understand, _he thought,_ But please, wait as long as you can. _

_I can't promise anything. _

_You sound like Alex now, _Charles thought.

_That's not such a bad thing, _Hank thought,_ Not in this situation anyway. I'd love to have more numbers, but we can't always get everything to go perfectly. _

_Yes_, Charles thought, _But...Hank...I need to tell you something_.

Hank could hear the tone shift in Charles's thoughts. He wondered what new piece of information was about to crash down on him. Was it possible that reinforcements for Emma were coming? Did they know what they wanted with Alex?

_There's no real easy way to tell you this_, Charles thought,_ But...Hank...I...all the information I'm telling you, it came from Raven. Raven and Logan. _

The pain shot through him instinctively. He almost didn't register Logan's name, but he quickly filed it away. The pain caused by the other name was too great to consider what the second one would mean.

So instead of asking questions, he recoiled, almost as though Charles was there and he could somehow draw himself away from him, him and his words.

_Hank?_

_I'm here,_ Hank thought miserably,_ Charles..._

_I know. _

_It's just...why now? Why is...never mind. _

_It's a legitimate question, _Charles thought sadly_, But I think it's because they had to. I don't think that she would have come back if she had another option, another way to deal with this. Logan has absolutely no memory of us, which, I suppose, makes sense. But she..._

_Yeah, _Hank thought.

There was that silence again, a silence that acknowledged that there was nothing left to say about Raven. They had spent so many nights talking about her after they had saved the future, so many nights finally letting out feelings that had remained hidden. Now the only thing they could do was acknowledge that pain.

The scent of the others grew stronger, and Hank cleared his throat. There was no real reason for him to do so, none except that he needed something to do in that moment. He made a quick motion to Magneto, letting him know that the others were coming.

_They're coming Charles,_ he thought, _I need to brief them all, get some sort of attack plan in motion. _

_Of course. And...Hank?_

_Yes?_ Hank thought.

_Please be careful_, Charles thought, _We'll try to get down there as quickly as possible, but I think that this isn't something that's going to be solved by numbers._

Hank laughed quietly as Wanda and Peter walked into the clearing, supporting Xi'an and Sam.

_I don't think the numbers have ever really been in our favor_, he thought.

* * *

Wanda had been relieved when they managed to link up with Hank and Magneto. The silence between her and her brother was beginning to press down on her, like some sort of palpable weight. Peter wanted a reconciliation, she could see that much, but she didn't see how that was possible.

The plan was simple enough. They would deal with the machine, and she would be the one to rescue Alex. Magneto and Hank had determined ahead of time that her "multi-purpose" powers would be best suited to a situation where they knew less than they would prefer. Having it be one person meant that they had a greater element of surprise, and there was more of a chance that she could slip under the radar.

That meant that she might run into Malice, the new name for her sister's captor. It meant that things were a little easier for her. All she wanted to think about at the moment was getting her sister back. Having them be her objective meant that she didn't have to get distracted by anything else.

There was also Alex. Alex was a secondary priority but, as long as Lorna cared for him, then she would have to make him a priority. After spending so much time trying not to get hit by Alex, now she had to protect him. It was so strange.

It felt complicated, but what didn't? Alex was a complication, a messy one, but she couldn't just ignore what he meant to Lorna. He might not be what she had hoped for her sister, a man who was drawing her further into the opposite yet parallel lives that the Brotherhood and X-men led, but if she cared, then Wanda had to care too.

Caring about her family had been something she'd been good at. Wanda had always thought of herself as a good sister. She'd cared about Lorna to the point where she was smothering her. She'd cared about Peter to the point of stupidity.

It occurred to her that that hadn't done any favors for him. Peter had never been encouraged to show restraint, and she had encouraged him. Of course, it still didn't mean that she forgave him. Wanda was just realizing how her mistakes had contributed to the whole.

But it occurred to her that she didn't have any family, not really. Not after what she had done to her mother and sister. Not when Peter really didn't seem to be learning from his mistakes. Not when she didn't know how to learn from them.

However, she could fight for her sister. Even if she couldn't give her back her childhood, or the support she would have received as a teenager. She could give her back her boyfriend though, and maybe she could give her back control of her body from a malevolent creature.

It was such a strange thought, but it was one that seemed to suit her life perfectly. So, as they explained to her her role in the oncoming attack, Wanda didn't ask any questions. She ignored Peter's worried looks, just nodded as Hank continued on.

"So," she said when they finished, "When do we start?"


	23. Chapter 23

Peter waited behind the oak tree, his back against the rough bark. He began tapping his fingers on his arm aimlessly, waiting for the signal. No one ever seemed to understand why he was so impatient all the time. He never seemed to understand why they were so slow.

Had he been this impatient before his mutation had manifested? Probably. He could remember a time when his father had asked him to wait until later for dessert. Before fifteen minutes were up Peter had already plundered the cake in the icebox. He'd been grounded for a week.

He chuckled to himself. It had been a long time since he thought of that memory, since he had thought of many memories. If his life wasn't falling apart at the seams, then he doubted that he would be thinking of them now. But now that he was, it seemed like the floodgates were opening up.

And he remembered a less encumbered boy, a more loving, trusting one. But he was one that was no less impulsive, no less reckless. He'd grown up, but he hadn't matured. That wouldn't have bothered him once but, now, with his thirtieth year fast approaching, he knew that there was something wrong with him. Wrong with the decisions he'd made, wrong with the way he'd chosen to live his life.

There was no doubt in his mind that he had made a mistake. If you take yourself down a path, and the ultimate destination is the alienation and abandonment of everything you'd loved and cared about, then you had definitely made a wrong turn somewhere. The only problem was that you didn't have a map, didn't have a way to get back to where you'd been.

It was why he'd changed his mind. After this, he wasn't going to talk to Wanda, Lorna, his mother. He wasn't even going to talk to Magneto. Was the Brotherhood to blame for what he'd become? Maybe, maybe not. He couldn't blame them for fighting for mutants everywhere. All he could do was blame himself for not being a worthy combatant or brother.

So, when it was all over he was just going to quietly slink off, hoping that no one would notice him. He'd figure out what to do after that. Maybe he could just camp out in Canada for a while. Given that it was where Wanda had originally wanted to flee, there was a certain irony in all that.

However, right now was time for one last hurrah. One last thing for his sisters and mother to remember him by. All they had to do was wait for Xavier and his buddies to join the main camp, and then he could go off and do his thing.

"Getcha game face on Peter," he muttered.

It had been a long time since he'd called himself that out loud. Peter had expected it to feel awkward and clunky but, instead, it felt like the most natural thing in the world. He smiled to himself. Well, what do you know?

* * *

"When is Charles coming?" asked Magneto.

"Soon," Hank said.

He knew his voice was tight, but he couldn't help it. He hated how unflappable Magneto was, even at the news that Raven and Logan would be accompanying Charles. There was no doubt in Hank's mind that Magneto remembered Logan, but he just kept that bored expression with an underlying edge of frustration.

Hank peeked over the hill. He could see Peter with his back against a tree, picking at his nails impatiently. Wanda was more difficult to make out, but maybe she was picking her nails too. It was difficult to figure out what went on in the minds of the twins, although he had already decided that it didn't really matter. They were loyal to Lorna, and that was enough to keep them fighting with them.

Now they were just waiting for the signal. Wanda would rescue Alex: her gift could make her just as valuable as a team of three. Peter was a perfect distraction. Hank could vouch for that, given how many times he'd distracted certain members of the X-men. They would enter through the other side, and then they could swoop down and cut through the middle of the camp.

He looked back at the camp and saw Emma Frost approaching the machine in the middle. One of her hands caressed its side, and he thought she sighed. Even his hearing wasn't sensitive enough to pick it up for sure at this distance. Perhaps Magneto's belief of her lack of mental stability was right.

A minute later the pale man walked out. An uneasy feeling started in Hank's mind. The two of them were talking, and Hank could see the pale man move with a new purpose towards the machine. Hank's hackles raised when he realized what was about to happen.

Without a word, he ripped into his emergency pouch and picked up his emergency flashlight. He signaled Peter as quickly as possible in the dying light, and he saw the speedster give him a thumbs-up.

"Beast, what are you doing?" Xi'an hissed.

Hank whipped around. How long had she been watching him? He knew that it wasn't exactly fair to keep her and Sam out of the loop, and she was smart enough to know that she was missing something, but still. It took him a moment to shake the surprise and guilt off.

"We can't wait for Charles," he said, "We need to get moving."

"And why is that?" asked Magneto.

He got to his feet, slipping his flashlight back into the emergency pouch of his uniform.

"Because they're turning on the machine, and I, for one, don't want to find out what it does."

* * *

Peter was just starting to wonder if it was possible to die of boredom, it was a question that he'd asked himself a lot during his life, but then he saw the flicker of a flashlight from the hill. Right, show time. He pulled down his goggles and gave them a thumbs-up so they knew he'd seen.

Tensing his body, Peter crouched down a bit. He risked a quick peek at the guards, just to make sure that they hadn't moved significantly, and then ran forward. It was easy enough to rush them, they had a lot of their guns held tightly to their chests, which made them easy targets. People never seemed to understand just how much it hurts to have a gun punched towards their chest at the speed of a bullet.

The masks the guards were wearing were ridiculous too. What was the point? Were they concealing their identity? Protecting their faces from attack? Peter didn't know, but he did know that they weren't clipped on from all sides, so he could hook his fingers through the eyeholes to pull the masks forward, and then punch them so that it hurt worse. Not quite the three stooges, but very close.

Even in his haze of speed, he could hear them shouting. Immediately, he saw several more run over. He grinned, because it certainly looked like he had managed to get their attention. Peter knew that, somewhere, the rest of the team was entering from the other side. He had to make sure that they had a few less guards to deal with, and that they had an easy path to the machine.

So far it seemed like it was working. There were more and more guards, and the dim light of the fading day wasn't helping them. It was an odd time of day, the time when your flashlight wasn't incredibly useful, but where the sun wasn't enough. He'd always liked it for heists.

From several yards away, he thought he saw a flash of red hair. Wanda. He hoped that she would be able to make it, to get to Lorna and find a way to set her free. Alex was, apparently, part of her mission too. He still figured that they could drop him if they needed to though. Lorna might not like that, but it was the truth.

Freeing Lorna was the last thing he had to do on his checklist. The sooner they figured out how to save her, the sooner they would never have to see him again.

* * *

The sound of fighting echoed through Wanda's ears. The rest of the X-men had probably entered the fray. Most of them, she knew, would move to protect Hank as he tried to figure out the machine. With any luck their reinforcements had arrived, which would make her job easier.

There were still about three guards who were positioned in the back of the tents. Their faces were turned towards the noise though, seemingly oblivious to her presence. Peter really was doing his job. She sent three quick bolts their way, dropping them. As she walked by, she kicked them each once for good measure.

She dropped to the ground as she got closer to the camp, keeping her head down and crawling. It was difficult to move without being seen this close, she'd never been good at sneak attacks, but, again, Peter was drawing a lot of the fire. He'd always been good at getting under people's skin.

Wanda got close to one of the tents and peeked at the space between the cloth and the ground. It wasn't the best vantage point, but it was enough to see that no one was in it. Sweating and cursing to herself, she crawled to the next one and looked underneath.

She caught the sight of a yellow and black coat, thrown carelessly over the floor. It was enough for Wanda. she wormed her way beneath the cloth of the tent and pulled herself inside by her fingertips. Dirt was gathering in her fingernails, sticking to her sweat.

When she was halfway through she looked up. Alex was knocked out, his hands and feet cuffed. They hadn't bothered to gag him, which she thought was something of an oversight. The most annoying thing about him was that he talked so damn much.

She pulled herself the rest of the way through and walked over. With great difficulty, Wanda turned him over so that he was in a seated position. Alex was much heavier than she had initially suspected, the result of any man who was muscled and probably ate about six thousand carbs a day.

It did not bode well if he didn't wake up soon. She could, of course, use her powers to carry him back, but that would hamper her concentration if any more guards attacked. Either way, he was going to owe her after this. A good start would be a promise to treat her sister right.

As far as she could tell, he was unharmed. She'd have to figure out later whether or not he'd been possessed by something like her sister. Wanda had no desire to be taken by surprise by something like that ever again.

Wanda put his arm around her shoulder and lifted. Getting to her feet was much, much more difficult than it should have been. She would advise Lorna that her boyfriend should go for leaner muscle after this, or at least cut back on snacks.

From behind her, someone grabbed her hair and pulled. The sudden force of the motion made her drop Alex, and the back of Wanda's head slammed into a table. Dizzily she rolled, a knife cutting her cheek. The pain stung, but she still got to her feet, already knowing what she was going to find.

Malice glared at her, her knife tinted with Wanda's blood, and her black lips curled into a snarl.


	24. Chapter 24

Malice snarled. She should have just plunged the knife into Wanda while her back was turned. She'd known that as she'd approached, and she'd tried. She hadn't thought that it would be a big deal, until Lorna started clawing and scraping, trying to hold her back. There'd been a flash of a living room, and Lorna as a child, running up to a teen and calling her Wanda.

So now it appeared that the woman in front of her was precious to Lorna too, so she'd had to settle for a hair pull, delay what she wanted to do. This was beyond frustrating. Just how many relatives did Lorna have, how many lovers? Malice was starting to feel exhausted, running into so many people from her life.

But the job wasn't done, and Malice knew that she wasn't going to be able to rest until it was. She hated Lorna, hated the pain she was letting her feel, but she was starting to realize that Lorna was her ticket out of life as Essex's personal muscle. If she could feel pain in Lorna's body, then she could permanently bond. Then she wouldn't have to hang around Essex, hoping that one day one of his experiments would give her a permanent body.

All of the signs seemed to point to it. There was still no decay, no blemishes. For whatever reason, Lorna's body was accepting her. It might be why she was able to fight back so strongly. Two could play at that game. Malice just had to fight back harder, take away everything Lorna was fighting for.

Malice could start a real life if she could just destroy all of Lorna's emotional attachments. They were only helping her fight and, after finding such a prize, Malice wasn't about to let it go. She just had to fight the peculiar behavior Lorna was forcing on her for a little while longer. Already she'd found herself staring at Alex for no reason. Essex would take care of him, but she could take care of the rest of Lorna's attachments.

Wanda's fingertips crackled with red energy. Malice ducked as she sent off a blast. Nothing exploded when it hit the tent wall, so it wasn't meant to destroy. Just a singe, which was good. The bitch didn't want to hurt Lorna, just as Alex and Peter hadn't. Perfect.

She moved in closer. Wanda lashed out with her foot and kicked Malice in the side. There was a dull thud, nothing like the initial pain of the wrist, but it still threw her off a little. Yes, pain. That would be a downside to a body, but it was one she was willing to endure.

Wanda followed it up by punching her in the throat, but Malice had been prepared for more pain. She brought the knife around and slashed into Wanda's arm. A muted scream escaped Wanda's lips and, the next time she punched, her fist was crackling with red energy.

Malice tried to twist out of the way, but the punch landed solidly in her stomach. It felt like an electric shock was threading through her, and her lightly injured wrist cried out. It was like it was rattling through her bones.

There was another punch, one she managed to block. Wanda grabbed the arm holding the knife and twisted it behind Malice's back. Pain shot up through her arm, followed by that electric rattling. She dropped the knife, but began looking at her surroundings. There was a box next to her, and she kicked off it so that she and Wanda were both rocketed backwards.

They both went to the ground. Wanda hit her a few more times with the crackling energy, and her face was suddenly wet with blood. Was her nose broken? It certainly felt like it, but it had been so long. Malice forced herself to block it out. Instead, she rolled so that she pinned Wanda beneath her, pressing one knee into her rib cage.

Her hands gripped Wanda's throat, and began to apply pressure. Wanda grabbed onto Malice's arms, and the shock raced through her body. It was the worst pain she had ever felt, but it only made her squeeze harder. She wasn't going to surrender this body, and the only way for it to be truly hers was to get rid of Lorna.

And, in order for that to happen, Wanda had to die.

* * *

_Charles, we can't wait. They're turning on the machine. We're going to have to go in. _

Charles wanted to beg Hank to reconsider, to stop and take another path. They were only a few minutes out. However, they didn't know enough about the machine to tell Hank what was and wasn't important.

_Do what you have to_, he thought.

He leaned back as the road stretched before them. It seemed like they were gobbling up the ground before them, but it still wasn't fast enough.

"The X-men and Brotherhood have engaged," Charles said, "By the time we get there, the camp will already be in chaos."

"They need to wait," Raven said.

She sounded genuinely worried. Her golden eyes flicked away from him. Charles followed her gaze over at Logan, who was driving the jeep that he and Raven had come in. The plants were clawing at it, but he paid them no mind. His eyes were focused straight ahead, and Charles could see the beginning of panic there.

"They don't have a choice," said Charles, "We don't know what the machine does. All we know is that the people who created it are not going to use it for benign purposes."

"She'll kill em if they try ta get in her way," Logan said, not looking at him, "She's too scared ta think clearly."

Charles wanted to remind him that this could go differently. All of the X-men were accomplished fighters and, if this went the way he thought it was going to go, then there was a very real possibility that Emma might be the one killed.

However, after hearing why Logan cared about Emma's survival, he didn't have the heart to tell him.

"We'll just need to get there before it comes to that," Charles said, "But is there anything that you know about this machine?"

"We don't know anything too specific," Raven said, still looking worriedly at Logan, "You already knew that she'd been stealing a large quantity of unique weapons. We've come across that too, so I think we know what the supplies are. I don't know why exactly she needed those."

"It's Essex," Logan growled, "I'm not sure she did either."

Charles racked his brain, trying to think if there had been any other unusual activity, anything that might give them a clue.

"Anything about the motives behind it that we don't?" Charles asked, "I understand hers, but what about this Essex?"

"Not really," said Raven, "Essex is sadistic and twisted, but he is brilliant. Whatever he's been building for her won't be something normal. It'll have a specific purpose, and it will be unique."

"But if the goal is to kill Stryker, then why would they put it up here?" Charles said, "I've taken great care to ensure that his kind don't come around the Institute."

"Then it's not just meant for him maybe?" Raven asked, "Even if Emma commissioned Essex to design it, I don't think that he's going to give her exactly what she wants. He has his own weird agenda, one that you might have to be as twisted as he is to understand."

"How do you even know who he is?" asked Charles.

Raven suddenly looked a little nervous, and Charles realized too late that the answer was going to be unpleasant.

"I've been impersonating Colonel William Stryker on and off again for the past several years," she said, "He...got into an accident after what happened in D.C. Right now he's in a coma as John Doe at a charity hospital. He associated with some real pieces of work."

The cloying, broken temptation rose to his tongue to ask particulars about the accident. Raven must have seen it, because she hesitated and put a hand over Charles's.

"A beam fell on him in all the confusion surrounding the Sentinel attack," she said, "I was responsible for the John Doe bit, but everything else..."

She squeezed his hand almost timidly. Charles looked at her, feeling relief blossom inside him.

"Five minutes out. Now that all that shit's out in the open, might wanna get in there fast," Logan said, his eyes still fixed on the road, "Think I might just wanna drive straight on through their damned front door."

"That might not be the best course of action," Charles said.

"No. But it's the fastest one bub," said Logan.

He watched in growing horror as Logan began to accelerate. Immediately Charles checked his seatbelt. Yes, it was secured.

"Trust me," Logan said, "Anything Essex builds, ya don't wanna find out what it does."

* * *

Hank had to hand it to Peter: he really knew how to clear a camp. They encountered little to no resistance on their way, and anyone they did run into was in a state of panic trying to get to the front entrance. Hank had come across mall cops that were better disciplined than them.

Still, this was better for them, and he supposed that he should be grateful. In a minute or two Peter was supposed to rejoin them and then, with any luck,, they would be able to free Alex. If the machine hadn't been fully activated yet, then this could all be over in a matter of minutes.

When they made it to the center of the camp, the only ones still there were Essex, Emma, and a handful of guards. She snarled when she saw them, and Hank immediately felt something clawing at his mind. It was painful, but Charles had prepared all the X-men well in case this happened.

He was surprised at just how fast she turned into diamond. If he recalled her mother correctly, she couldn't use her telepathy when she was diamond. Was this what she looked like when she was panicked?

Two of the guards began firing, but Xi'an quickly reached out to them. They immediately stopped firing and concentrated their firepower on Emma. It bounced off her diamond skin, and she snarled again. That wasn't going to last long.

He pushed aside two other guards, ready to get to the machine. He had to shut it down before it did anything serious. Hank wanted to signal Sam, tell him to help Xi'an, but he could see that Sam was otherwise occupied.

It looked like, when they had arrived, Essex had begun running towards one of the tents. He was concerned about something, and that wasn't particularly good. Sam had taken off after him, fire and kinetic energy crackling around him. Essex was on the ground before he'd made it halfway.

Hank crouched in front of the machine, still keeping one eye on Xi'an. From the way Magneto's eyes were following the fight, he was too.

"If anything goes wrong," Hank muttered, crouching down, "Help her."

Magneto didn't deign to answer, but Hank wasn't sure he had time to argue. The entire machine was thrumming: it was in stand-by mode. That was good, but not great. It meant he couldn't just ask Magneto to rip it apart. They couldn't risk it going off.

He lightly ran his fingers across the surface, following the wires, looking for the power source. His search led him to two small cylinders, as thick and long as a dry erase marker. Inside it looked like there was a clear liquid, but there was a slight glow to it. Was this what they'd done with the radioactive material?

As he peered at it, he saw that it had been hooked up to what looked like a heat source. Since the cylinders didn't appear to be in motion, they weren't the power source, so the heat seemed out of place. Unless of course...

Hank looked up at Magneto, his fingernails scratching the machine's casing.

"They created a biological weapon," Hank said, "And they're trying to get it airborne."


	25. Chapter 25

The pressure on Wanda's throat made her feel as though it was about to break in two. It wasn't like anything she had ever felt before. No one had ever tried to strangle her. People had tried to shoot her, to stab her, but never strangle.

She continued trying to cause as much pain as she could without doing any permanent damage, even though oxygen was running out. It might have been Malice's black eyes staring back at her, but it was Lorna's face, Lorna's body. As long as there was a chance her sister was still there, then she wasn't going to kill her.

But she was running out of air and she needed to do something. Malice wasn't letting go. She wasn't getting any oxygen in. Black spots were starting to dance before her eyes, and Wanda knew enough to know that death wasn't far behind.

Malice grimaced suddenly, but it wasn't from pain. She'd been doing that for a while. Wanda felt the pressure decrease fractionally, not enough for her to break away but enough to get a little oxygen, and she realized that something was happening.

"Shut up," Malice seethed, "Shut up, shut up-"

Had Alex woken up? Wanda could just see that he hadn't. Malice suddenly let go of Wanda's throat, clutching her head. Wanda gasped, trying to get as much oxygen as possible. She wanted to get up and fight her, but she could barely stand on her own feet let alone fight.

As she struggled to regain her breath Malice began pounding the side of her head.

"Shut up, shut up, shut up!" she snarled.

Wanda watched her as she slowly regained her breath. Something was going on, something that she didn't understand. Somewhere, she was missing something. And as she watched Malice claw at her head, Wanda finally realized what it had taken her far too long to see.

Her sister was fighting back. Somewhere inside, Lorna was trying to dig her way out. Wanda ran up to Malice, hesitating. Were her powers useful for something like this? In the past she'd found that her gifts were only limited by her imagination, and healing.

Sitting on the sidelines wasn't an option though. So, hesitantly, she put her hands on the side of Malice's head. Malice's black eyes shot up to hers, but Wanda couldn't be intimidated.

She wasn't sure if this was going to work, but she needed to try and reach Lorna somehow.

"Come on sis," she murmured, her throat burning, "Come back."

* * *

It felt like someone was ripping Malice apart, reaching inside of her heart and clawing at it. It was worse than anything Malice had ever felt, worse than the regret Lorna had made her feel over hurting Alex and Peter. Now she felt shame and despair but, more than anything, she felt alone.

This wasn't her though, weren't her emotions. They were all Lorna's, but whatever this was, it was worse than anything. Malice tried to push it out, remind herself that the emotions weren't hers. It didn't matter though: this body had once felt those emotions, once felt that despair. And the body remembered.

She felt hands clasp the sides of her head. She glared up at Wanda, who was looking at her with determination.

"Come on sis," Wanda murmured, "Come back."

Malice wanted to claw up and scratch out Wanda's eyes. She didn't know what she thought she was doing, but-

_"Wanda, Peter, please!" Lorna said._

_Wanda closed her eyes. Lorna watched as her sister breathed in, and Lorna silently begged her to disagree with her brother. They couldn't leave her behind. Not after everything she'd done for them, what she'd left behind, what she'd done._

_Oh God, what she'd done. There had been so much blood._

_"We can't take you with us," Wanda said._

_Despair rose up, choking her, threatening to drown her._

_"Then...then stay here with me!" Lorna pleaded._

_Peter shook his head angrily. Why was he angry? He must be thinking this too. He must know that, if she couldn't come with them, they would have to stay with her. It was the only way they could all be together._

_"You don't know what you're asking!" he said, "We can't give this up for you. Can't you see that?"_

_Lorna stared at him, her face soaked and her hands limp by her side. No. She didn't see that. How could something as trivial as the Brotherhood matter compared to what they were? To what they had promised her?_

_The stray thought gave Lorna something to latch onto. They had promised her that they would never be separated._

_"You promised," she whispered._

_There was silence, and then Wanda kissed the side of Lorna's head. They had to remember that promise. It was the only thing that had kept her going sometimes._

_"We love you," she said, "But we can't do this. Peter's right: you're not ready for this Lorna."_

_Something deep inside her began cracking and chipping._

_"We...we'll come back for you when you're older," Peter said, "Got it?"_

_Lorna watched as Wanda took her hands off her shoulders. Peter turned to Wanda, grabbed her trembling hand with his own. This wasn't happening. Couldn't be happening. The cracks became wider, and whatever it was inside her became more fragile._

_"No, don't," Lorna said._

_Peter continued walking, moving so fast, and taking Wanda with him. Why was he always moving so fast? Lorna tried to run after them, to grab onto her sister or Peter and plead with them. Instead she watched as Magneto nodded to them and then opened the door outside._

_Her voice rose in her throat, hysterical and broken._

_"Don't! Please!" Lorna screamed._

_Neither her brother nor her sister looked back as the front door shut. And whatever it was inside of Lorna shattered completely. She didn't scream, didn't cry, didn't even move. There were some things that hurt too much for words, for tears._

_That was the night that Lorna learned that, when your heart breaks, it does so quietly._

Malice fought and struggled against Wanda's grasp, but Wanda was holding firm. The memory seemed more real, more vivid than anything that Malice had ever felt before. It was sickening and despairing, and Malice didn't want to feel it.

Red sparks clouded her vision, pushing her down. She let go of her aching head, trying to smack Wanda's hands away. She was doing this. Wanda continued to hold on though, even though tears were leaking from her eyes. Malice snarled: she would give Wanda something to cry about-

_There was a knock on the door. Lorna didn't turn around: she already knew who it would be._

_"Lorna?" Charles asked._

_She didn't answer, but she heard Charles open the door anyway. He was good like that, knowing that, sometimes, there were no words that could be said. She still didn't turn, keeping her eyes locked on the view of the yard before her._

_Years ago she had come to the school, a broken and betrayed child. Almost every night she had come to the window seat and curled up, wondering about what her siblings were doing. As she grew, she'd wondered how many lives they had destroyed, how many of their fellow men and women they had killed in the name of mutant superiority._

_But she hadn't made the decision to separate from the Brotherhood. Not for a long time. She'd foolishly believed that, if she held on tight enough, things could be as they were. They could be her anchor and pull her in from the sea._

_However, that wasn't the way that things had gone. Night after night she had watched them on TV, heard about what they'd done, and come to recognize it as being wrong. It had left her between a rock and a hard place, and it had hurt._

_After years of indecision, Lorna had realized what she'd had to do. For too long her identity had been mixed up with theirs and, now that she realized that they were wrong, she would have to step out on her own. After so long of clinging to them so tightly, of what she'd wanted to be to please them, she'd had to let them go._

_She hoped that, in the future, they could do the same. Maybe someday they could let go of who she should be in their eyes, of what they should be. Then, maybe someday they might all be together again._

_From behind her, Charles cleared his throat._

_"Lorna-"_

_"I don't want to talk about it," she said._

_He nodded, once again understanding. He was so very good at that._

_"Is there anything I can get you?" he asked, "Anything I can do? Anything at all that you want?"_

_Lorna paused, and she closed her eyes. There was so much she wanted, and so little that he could give her. She would never be able to cling to Wanda and Peter as she once had. She might never even speak to them, not until they learned to let go of her as she was trying to let go of them._

_However, there was one thing that he could help her with._

_"I want to talk to my mother," she said._

Malice screamed in rage. She clawed at Wanda, who released her and fell to the ground. However, the red sparks still danced in front of her eyes. She dug her hands into the dirt and tried to find Lorna, tried to cage her. Malice wasn't going to go down without a fight.

* * *

Wanda could see that Malice was weakening. Tears were mixing with the blood from her nose, and her whole body was tense. Malice's movements were becoming increasingly erratic, almost involuntary.

But Wanda was crying too. She had been there, trying to strengthen whatever Lorna was doing. She had made the memories as real as possible, but that had meant a front row seat to all of Lorna's most emotional memories.

She had always wondered about the loneliness Lorna had felt. Just a few hours earlier she had thought that she knew how much damage had been done, but now she knew that she had only scratched the surface. Now she knew about her pain, knew about the confusion, the fear, and the utter, utter misery.

Malice had pushed her away and Wanda got to her feet. She could feel the after effects of oxygen-deprivation, and she was weak from the amount of power that she had expended in the last few minutes. There was more to do though.

Tears streaming down her face, she shakily got to her feet. If Lorna was fighting Malice using her emotions and memories, then maybe she could help in a way that wasn't just enhancing her memories. Maybe she could make new ones.

She just had to be brave.

"Lorna?" she said.

Her voice was raspy, and she coughed to clear it.

"Lorna!" she called.

She thought she saw Malice's eyes turn to her, no doubt wondering what she was doing this time.

"I..." Wanda said, "I..."

Tears were coming hot and fast down her cheeks. She clenched her fists.

"I'm sorry for all those years you felt alone and trapped," she said, "I'm sorry for disregarding you when I should have listened, should have trusted you. I'm sorry for not realizing what it was that I had done wrong."

Malice let out a frustrated growl, digging her hands into the ground. Wanda took a step forward.

"I'm sorry for not making my own decisions, for letting others make the decisions for me, for not questioning," she said, "I'm sorry for turning the person you looked up to into a monster, for not wanting you to live your own life."

She was very close now. Malice was screaming between clenched teeth. Wanda sank down to her knees. She paused, and then threw her hands around her, hugging her little sister tightly. Fingernails dug into her back, tearing at her jacket.

"I'm so sorry Lorna, I'm so damn sorry..." Wanda whispered.

The pain Malice was causing her was extreme now, and she knew that Malice had reached her skin.

"I can let you go too," she murmured, "I can let you go."


	26. Chapter 26

_"I can let you go too. I can let you go."_

The words cut through Lorna's mind. They weaved through the memories she was throwing at Malice, weaved through the pain that she kept trying to redirect to Malice. From deep inside the prison her body had become, Lorna began crying. All those years spent apart, wondering, hoping, and this was what it had taken.

All around her it seemed like there was a darkness. However, she could still hear what was going on. Could still see and feel what she was doing. At first it had all seemed blurry, like she was watching it happen on TV.

And, right now, she could feel that Malice was trying to claw her sister to pieces. Lorna could distantly feel her fingernails tearing at her sister's jacket and neck. She kept pulling at her hair, almost like they had done whens he was a child. It hadn't meant to hurt then, but she knew it was hurting Wanda now.

But Wanda was still there. Lorna laughed and cried all at once. Everything still seemed blurry, but there were some things that were perfectly clear. Her sister was asking for forgiveness, for a chance to start over. It was the one thing that Lorna had desired more than anything over the past few years.

The feeling began to swell deep inside her. She was feeling too much for the space she had been caged. It wasn't a memory of new love she was experiencing, or old pain. Her love for Alex had given her strength, but he had been part of her life for less than a year. Wanda was in her blood, and those words were giving her something else to cling to.

This was something different from all of that, something stronger. This was happening now, and the feeling was filling her up. She needed more room for it, and the walls of her dark prison were holding her back.

She shoved out, kicking at Malice. It felt like she was on the edge of a precipice, and one of them had to go over. People had always seen her as the kind one, the sweet one, but at the moment she wasn't feeling much of either.

If someone was going to fall off the edge, then it wasn't going to be Lorna.

_You can't have my life_, Lorna thought.

_I don't want your life!_ snarled Malice.

The words enraged Lorna, and she threw the closest memory she could.

_"Sure, he was my son," she murmured. "But I think to him they were all my sons. And I guess they were, I guess they were."_

_"What are you talking about?" Wanda asked._

_Lorna swallowed. Her throat was still sore, but she could feel that her voice was getting stronger now._

_"Sure, you're my brother. Sure, she's my sister," Lorna said, "But it's not a matter of caring about you less than I did. It's a matter of caring about them more than when I was a child, about bringing them up to your level."_

_She closed her eyes and remembered that perfect moment of clarity that she had first felt as a teenager all those years ago, curled up and reading the book for class. It was a clarity that she had remembered with sharing the play to Alex. Even now the feelings that had swirled inside her when she realized that he understood._

_"To me, they all my brothers and sisters," Lorna said, "Karma, Cannonball, the woman who works at the store I buy shoes from, people I pass in the street, all of them. They are all my family. They're all…you."_

_She opened her eyes, but the world seemed to be swimming slightly. It was alright, because she didn't need to see it._

_"That's why I could never be what you wanted me to be," she said, "Every person I raise my hand in anger against is you. Every person I am impatient with, everyone I refuse to understand, it feels like I'm doing that to you."_

Even inside her mind she could feel Malice stumble, unused to the pain that she was feeling. She'd been without her own body for so long, her own emotions, her own ties, that she didn't understand.

It was time to remind her what living was about.

_It comes with the territory,_ Lorna thought back angrily, _I know what you and your boss are doing with that machine, and you're doing it with my body. I know what you want to do to Alex to kill my brother and sister, and you're doing that with my body! How are you not trying to take away my life?_

She slammed into her again, this time letting her feel just a sliver of what she felt when Wanda told her she was letting her go. Malice was thrown back.

_All that pain, all those emotions, that's what you're trying to get, _Lorna hissed_, And that's mine. You can't go around stealing other people's lives, their hopes. I won't let you take mine and, if I can, I won't let you take anyone else's ever again._

She pushed and shoved. Wanda was still there, still repeating that she could let her go. She gathered it up, readying herself to let Malice know what it meant to be offered a second chance. It wasn't a guarantee, not by any means. How much would her relationship with her sister change if she went back to the Brotherhood? Lorna didn't know. Even after all of their apologies, she might never see her again.

But she would know, and that counted for something. No matter what happened next, that meant something. And right now, her sister was trying to apologize to her while being torn apart by a madwoman. If that wasn't sincerity, than Lorna didn't know what was.

She grinned. It sounded like something Alex would think.

_I love you Wanda_, she thought,_ And I won't let her hurt you. _

* * *

Malice continued trying to twist out of Wanda's grip. Her back was filled with scratches, and she was sure that her face was cut up considerably. In her rage Malice had even started pulling on Wanda's hair, and she could see her auburn strands on the floor.

Everything hurt right now, but she needed Lorna to know that she wasn't alone.

"I can let you go," she repeated, "I can let you go."

It felt like a spell, the words chanted over and over, calling her sister home and begging for forgiveness. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to give her sister as much strength as she could, the red sparks of her powers surrounding the two of them.

Memories flickered through her mind, years wasted and lives destroyed. She thought of that night so long ago when Lorna had let Peter put her in the back of the car. She hadn't said a word as they'd driven away, falling asleep in that backseat with perfect faith in her brother and sister.

That trust had been betrayed, but that was no excuse for it to be betrayed again. Lorna had relied on herself and the Institute for years, her siblings not there to give her the extra support she should have had. Now that she finally understood, Wanda was going to fight for her as long and as hard as she could.

However, Malice had begun coughing, a deep, hacking sound. It sounded like she was trying to dislodge her own lungs. Her eyes were rolling to the back of her head, and spittle was gathering on her lips.

No longer was she scratching at Wanda. Instead she was focused on coughing. The black veins in her neck were bulging, and Wanda wondered if she was getting enough air. If she wasn't, then her bear hug wasn't helping her.

Wanda let go of her Malice, trying to give her the space and air she needed. She didn't know exactly what would happen if Malice died within Lorna's body, but she knew enough to know that some damage would be done.

So she put her hand on Malice's back, trying to pound it and give her more air. Malice shoved Wanda away and tried to get to her feet. Instead, another round of coughs sent her to the ground. This time, when she coughed, there was blood in it.

"Lorna?" Wanda asked, panic in every syllable, "Lorna?"

* * *

_I'm here._

It was the answer that Lorna wanted to give, but couldn't. Her sister needed some form of reassurance that everything was going to be alright, but Malice still had control of the vocal chords. It wasn't as though anyone was going to be doing a lot of talking in the next few minutes though. She had made sure of that.

The shadows were getting lighter around her, lit by red sparks. Wanda was helping her however she could, but she could also feel the fire in her throat. It hurt so much, coughing like that. She could tell that she was on the verge of doing permanent damage to herself. Maybe she would lose her voice as a result of what she was doing. Anything to be rid of Malice though.

They were both toeing the edge of the precipice now. If Lorna couldn't figure out what to do now, couldn't find some way to knock Malice out of her, then she would never be able to. She just had to summon what was left of her strength.

It was clear that Malice was doing the same thing. She wasn't going to win though.

_You don't deserve my life_, Lorna thought.

She shoved as many memories as she could Malice's way, glazed over with the knowledge that her sister loved her, wanted things to be different. It gave her hope that, not only could she improve things with Wanda, but Peter too. The two of them understood each other so much and, if Wanda could understand what had made her make the decisions she had, then surely Peter could too.

She could have her siblings back. Lorna could start a new life with Alex. She could continue teaching, continue letting her mother know that her family was still there. There was so much that she had to fight for.

And she wasn't about to lose to someone like Malice.

* * *

Malice hacked up what looked like black smoke. Wanda watched as it poured from her lips and eyes, watched the black veins around Lorna's throat fade, the black leave her eyes and lips. It all curled out into the smoke which was now rapidly gathering in the middle of the room.

Lorna collapsed onto the ground, her green eyes blinking but unseeing. The black smoke, fluttered around, almost as if it was confused and in pain. Wanda narrowed her eyes. It was fairly easy to figure out what this was.

Without hesitating she thrust her hand into the cloud. She could feel the sharp sting of it around her hand, but red sparks burst from her hand, glinting in the smoke.

"Did you think you were safe now that you were out here like this?" she growled.

The cloud twisted in the air, writhing.

"Do you even know what my powers are?" demanded Wanda.

Something was stinging her hand. She increased the power, and the whole room was filled with red.

"My powers are limited only by my imagination," she snarled, "And I've been imagining your death for a long time. If I can imagine it, I can do it. Do you know when I know that I've gone too far?"

There was no answer, but she hadn't wanted one.

"When I feel like I'm about to throw up my liver," Wanda said, laughing at a joke that Malice wouldn't understand or care about, "And I don't feel that yet."

The cloud exploded, the red sparks eating away at it. Wanda thought she heard a scream from somewhere, but she didn't give up. She didn't stop, didn't even move, until the cloud had dissipated entirely.

Wanda fell to her knees, feeling weak. She managed to crawl over to her sister, brushing a few strands of her green hair out of her sister's face.

"Lorna?" she managed.

Lorna breathed in slowly.

"I'm here," she whispered.


	27. Chapter 27

Hank frantically tried to open the machine's casing. The codes protecting it were impressive, but also maddeningly complicated. They reminded him if something he'd come up with to protect his inventions, if he was a murdering psychopath.

As it was, it was all he could do to keep up with the codes. They kept changing under his fingertips, and the second he unlocked one, two more came up. The fact that this had a computerized protection code at all was advanced beyond belief.

It made him want to tear his hair out. Essex had obviously been very protective of his invention. But he could feel the steady hum of the machine beneath his fingers, and that was reason enough to keep working.

Out of the corner of his eye he could see that the fight wasn't going great. He'd expected Emma to be a fierce fighter. Her unique mutation ensured that she didn't have to land many blows. One or two well-placed ones would be more than enough to destroy your enemy when you were made of diamond.

Xi'an had realized this, but he didn't know how much it was helping her. Her mutation was almost useless against someone like Emma, especially in her diamond form. The only thing keeping her from being crushed was her speed.

Sam wasn't having much more luck. Essex had gotten up from Sam's tackle, and he was now proceeding to beat him bloody. The man might not have looked like he packed a punch, but it was clear that he did. It was only Sam's advanced training that allowed him to stand on his feet. He was making the most of his kinetic blasts but, again, there was only so much he could do.

Magneto was on crowd control, and at least he was succeeding. There were scores of guards taking aim at Xi'an, Sam, and him, but Magneto was handling them well. People were still using far too many weapons made of metal.

And as for him, he was in a position he'd been in far too many times. Although his mutation was highly conducive to combat, his mind was his greatest gift to the team. He'd been the one they covered and watched time after time. Hank had always wanted to help, but he knew that the best thing he could do was focus on the task at hand.

So he continued working, trying unsuccessfully to block out the sounds of his brother and sister in arms fighting for their lives, fighting to give him time. He could tell that the casing was finally giving way, and he allowed himself a grim smile of hope.

A breeze made his hair swirl around him. He didn't risk a glance up, but the noises let him know Peter had finished being a distraction. There were a few muffled yells before he realized Peter was standing behind him.

"What's up doc?" he said.

"What's up is that I need someone to help them fight Essex and Emma," Hank said.

"So that's who diamond girl is, huh?" Peter said, "And I used to think she was hot."

There was no further dialogue, but Hank did hear more wooshing noises as he continued working on the codes.

"He's from another planet," Hank muttered.

"Just D.C.," Magneto said, a hint of pride in his voice.

The answer was irritating, because he hadn't wanted an answer. Speaking wasn't always an invitation to a conversation. He kept his mouth shut after that, partially because he didn't want a conversation, but mostly because the casing had just come open.

Hank looked in on what had to be one of the most complex mechanic hook-ups he'd ever seen. It was obviously built to be tamper-proof, but he was good at dealing with things like that. It didn't take him too long to find the lines going to the two canisters on the side. All he had to do now was disconnect them safely, which was unlikely to be easy.

From behind him he heard a shriek of anger. Hank usually tried to block out the screams of battle, but suddenly he realized that there was a lot more rage in that shriek than he'd expected, then the voice had any right to have.

Something hard came down on his collarbone, and then it gripped it. Hank felt the bone break before he was tossed aside. He let out a grunt of pain, only just biting his lip to stop it from becoming a scream. When he hit the ground he was nearly blinded by the sight Emma, whose diamond skin was catching the last dying rays of light.

"You won't take this from me," she seethed.

Hank got up. There was a wooshing noise, but Emma slapped the air in front of her. Peter hit the ground and rolled. He wiped blood away from his lip, but his jaw didn't appear to be broken. So they had that going for them.

He wondered what had happened to Xi'an, but then he realized that there were smudges of blood on both of her hands. He glanced behind him and saw that Xi'an was on the ground. A bone poked from her leg, her face twisted in agony, and Hank felt sick.

But she wasn't dead, and, again, they could work with that.

"Do you have any idea what you're trying to do?" she demanded.

"I'm not sure we care to hear."

She glanced behind her. Magneto walked forwards, several pieces of metal idly orbiting around his outstretched hand.

"For what your mother meant to the Brotherhood and, for the sake of our old partnership, I'm giving you one chance to back down," he said, "Otherwise, my tolerance of your activities is at an end.

Emma turned more of her attention to Magneto. Hank shifted slightly, ready to attack when the rest of her attention was occupied.

"You don't understand," Emma said, "This is for mutants."

"This is for your revenge," said Magneto.

"It can be for both," Emma said, "It is. Magneto, do you know what this does?"

She pointed at the machine, her finger trembling. Hank couldn't tell if it was from rage or from fear. He moved a little closer, and her diamond eyes turned glassily to him.

"One step closer, and I'll smash you, you or Quicksilver," she said, "Not that this hasn't been interesting: it seems like Essex isn't the all-powerful miracle worker he pretends to be. So good job outmaneuvering him."

Her words were a sneer, and Hank paused. He would have to be very careful indeed.

"But this is going to free us," she said, "It's not supposed to kill people, not really. It's going to save us."

"Us?" Peter asked.

He sounded confused, and Hank didn't blame him. Perhaps Magneto was right: she might need some psychological help.

"Mutants," said Emma, "All of us. It's the best possible revenge I could have on Stryker."

"And what is that?" asked Magneto.

Hank looked at him, his mouth open and his brain aghast. Magneto's voice seemed far too interested to just be buying time with Emma. No. He was genuinely interested in what she had to say, in what her justification and idea was.

That was not good.

"There are certain mutagent agents in both Agent Orange and radioactive material," Emma said, "Distilled down, they make a gas. We can mutate the world."

There was a long pause. Hank looked at the device.

"This isn't big enough for something like that," he said.

"No," Emma said, her eyes on Magneto, "But you'd be surprised how much gas those two canisters make, but this is just a test run. It'll only cover New York."

Her voice became softer, less pleading and more explanation.

"They just need to breathe it in, and then everything can be normal for us," Emma said, "I told you once that I believed in enough in what my mother fought for that I wanted it to. What happened to Kayla didn't change my mind. I just want everyone to be like us."

Magneto's eyebrows furrowed. The expression was so affected that Hank couldn't tell whether he was faking it or not. Next to him, he could see Peter's eyes moving back and forth between the two of them.

"That's all I want, I swear," she said.

"But how does that kill Stryker?" Hank said.

This time, he did see annoyance on her face. She had the expression of someone who had been trying to have an adult conversation, but one of the children kept running into the room waving their latest crayon drawing.

"Obviously it's not a full-proof process," she said, her voice calm, "Essex estimates that it has around a seventy-five percent rate of success."

The numbers slammed into him. In the world of science, a success rate like that would have just about everyone salivating. In these terms, however, not so much.

"Emma, you're talking about killing twenty-five percent of the world's population!" Hank hissed.

"Right now, just twenty-five percent of New York," she said, "Stryker's in his town house right now. He's either going to die or become a mutant. Which do you think will destroy him more?"

"Who cares?" Hank asked, "Emma, this is mass genocide you're talking about!"

"Only to those beneath our notice."

Hank tensed. He'd expected those words from Magneto, he truly had. It didn't make them any easier to hear. He swallowed, trying to figure out something to say. Nothing would be good enough, he knew that, but, like the machine, he had to try.

"Don't side with her," he said, "You said yourself, she's mentally unstable-"

"I take it back," Magneto said calmly, "She might be one of the more sane people I've talked to in the past few hours. I apologize for the remarks Emma."

"Accepted," said Emma.

Hank could feel the panic starting. He began looking at the machine, wondering if he could somehow sabotage it from where he stood.

"Hank, try to put Charles's morals aside for a moment and do the right thing," Magneto said, "Do you know what this means for us, for our cause? No more fighting. The world will be united under the banner of mutant brotherhood. In one fell swoop, there would be no more persecutions."

"Just a lot of dead bodies," Hank said.

Magneto rubbed his temples.

"Hank, please consider the realities of your situation," he said, "They're not good."

That was putting it mildly. Hank knew exactly where he stood. Sam was still occupied with Essex. He hadn't seen hide nor hair of Lorna or Alex. Charles, Logan, and Mystique were nowhere to be found. His eyes flickered between Magneto and Emma.

He wasn't sure if he could take them both on at once, but he could certainly try. If he could just distract one of them for a few minutes, maybe play their powers off on each other for the first few minutes, then-

"Wouldn't you agree Quicksilver?"

Shit. He'd forgotten about him. Hank turned to Peter, saw the width of his eyes, the nervous tapping of his hand against his leg. Was he tensing to run, to attack? Hank knew that his gift for distractions went both ways. Peter might be good fighting the Hellfire Club, but Hank had forgotten what a good member of the Brotherhood he was.

His leg was almost completely healed and, with no long range powers, Hank didn't know if he'd be able to put him down. And, if they did fight, then Hank highly doubted that he would have the energy, or the time, to stop Magneto or Emma from arming the machine.

And, as he looked at Peter, Peter's head raised and their eyes locked. It was like staring at the end of the world.


	28. Chapter 28

Peter could feel his thoughts swirling around him, temporarily gluing him to the spot. Sweat was building up on his forehead, on the back of his hands. He felt as though all sound was slowly draining out of the clearing, pushing him into the ground and taking his sanity with it.

This shouldn't have been a difficult decision. He should have known exactly what to do, should be figuring out the best, fastest ways to go about it. Peter had never questioned Magneto in the past. He'd never wanted to and, quite frankly, had thought that doing so was ridiculous. Magneto had known what to do in every situation, had known what everything required.

After nine years of following orders without a second thought, it seemed logical that he should go ahead. There was even a large part of his brain that was screaming at him, telling him to do it. Wasn't this what he had worked for? Wasn't this what he had sacrificed so much for? A world without fear?

But there was something inside of him that was holding him back, telling him not to do this. Peter had always been bad at numbers, but he knew that seventy five percent was a C, and not even a C+. He'd had enough of them growing up. That wasn't a good thing to trust the future of the world to, something that only scored a C.

And the nightmare didn't seem to be ending any time soon. Magneto was asking him to side with him, as he'd always done, and then probably attack Hank. He'd done so before but, having been doctored by him earlier that day, it felt wrong now. The voice was particularly strong about this point. After all, hadn't he himself told Wanda that he thought the X-men might be the good guys?

The more he listened, the more it seemed like a voice was arguing with him. It was a hard voice to place. At first he thought it might be Lorna's. All of her words about universal brotherhood and responsibility had stayed with him, even though he didn't fully understand them. She'd been constantly in his thoughts over the past day, making him stop and look at the past in ways he'd never done before.

But the voice was too familiar, too pleading and desperate. Peter wondered if Karma had gotten into his head, but he dismissed it. If she was well enough to do something like that, and she didn't look like she was, then she would be able to be more assertive about this. So whose was it?

"We could finally be safe," Magneto said.

And then, Peter was finally able to place it. It had barely survived the years in the Brotherhood, but it was still there.

_Peter numbly blasted asteroids, his mind deep in thought. Magneto's words were echoing around in his head, cajoling and urging him to stop being afraid. His own feelings were egging him on and reaching out to him._

_Despite what he knew his sister thought of him, Peter did have a brain. He knew that he should be more careful in the future, more secretive and hidden. Doing that would keep him safe. It would keep his sisters safe._

_The problem was, Peter didn't want to be safe. He had never wanted to be safe. Safe was his mother, had been his father. Safe was the dweebs whose pockets he picked. Safe was boring and predictable, and Peter did not want to live like that._

_He wanted to live freely, to run around the city as much as he wanted without fear of censure. Peter wanted to jump off buildings to see if he could outrun his fall, test who he was and what he could do. He wanted to leave safe behind and never think about it again._

Oh God. He thought of the boy he'd been at seventeen, the one who argued with Magneto because he didn't want to leave Lorna behind. He'd been an idiot in so many ways, but he'd had good morals. Peter had believed himself to be the kind of person who could fight corruption, fight the sins of the world, and push himself to be better.

Yes, he'd been a thief. He'd been a delinquent, but he hadn't been a murderer. He hadn't been a killer. What had happened to that boy, the boy with fire in his heart and a desire to be something? He'd wanted so desperately to do something amazing.

But he hadn't done anything amazing. It was a conclusion that Peter had slowly been building up to ever since he was brought to the Institute. They had done something amazing, creating a safe haven for young mutants while creating a team that would protect the world until they were old enough to inherit it. People like Alex and Hank had dedicated their youth to it.

In contrast, he'd spent his youth hurting others and seeing nothing come of it. The years had seen him become a killer, trying to run from the misguided boy he'd been at seventeen. But, somewhere, that seventeen-year-old was still trying desperately to be heard. And maybe that wasn't the bad thing he'd always though tit was.

Peter had begun his career in the Brotherhood because he wanted to be more, not less. It seemed to him that being a killer was a significant step down from a thief. He'd already fallen to that place for the sake of being who he thought history needed him to be. The only thing lower than that would be a mass murderer.

The choice wasn't an easy one, but it was fairly obvious. Peter was fighting all of his instincts at the moment and, truth be told, he felt a little dizzy from it. This wasn't going to be easy. His next step was even harder, but it was also practical.

It seemed strange but, for the first time in his life, it seemed that his ability to come to conclusions about his future quickly was going to come in handy. So he sighed at Hank and put on his goggles. Hank looked dismayed, but Peter winked.

"I'll get Mags, you get Emma," he said.

He didn't wait for a reply, or a reaction. Peter just barreled into Magneto, and the metal that had been orbiting around his arm went flying. Peter hoped that his actions weren't going to hurt him too badly. Yes, they had crossed a line. But Peter wasn't going to be a jerk about it.

It would only take seconds for Magneto to react, and Peter knew that when he did, he would be in for a world of hurt. There was still a ton of metal lying around, so Peter needed to concentrate on getting him as far away from the machine as possible in this first, vital push.

They had gone several yards when Peter felt something grab his leg. He stumbled and let go of Magneto, but managed to jerk his foot away from the metal debris that was trying to pin it to the ground. When he looked up he saw several more objects being tossed at him.

Peter ducked and weaved, trying to go as fast as possible. He was fast, but Magneto had an infinite amount of experience with his gifts. If Peter didn't really start applying himself, then death was definitely an option.

Something skimmed his shoulder, cutting the top of his arm. It wasn't deep, but he knew that it meant he was getting sloppy. He had to be more precise, although precision had never really been his particular field of expertise. He'd left that to Domino. Not that she'd talk to him after this, but still.

He dodged another piece and heard a rumbling in the distance. Peter glanced behind and saw what looked like a truck flying through the air, headed for Hank. He didn't know if Hank saw it but Peter wasn't about to take any chances.

Peter barreled into Magneto again, and he heard the truck fall to the ground. Hopefully no one got hurt when it made impact. However, it looked like Magneto had been prepared for that particular trick of his. Peter suddenly found himself getting flipped over and tossed onto the ground.

He looked up in time to get punched across the face. Another blow ground him into the dirt, and Peter felt Magneto grab the front of his shirt. He risked opening his eyes, and saw Magneto looking down on him with fury.

"Why?" he seethed, "After nine years, why?"

Peter continued to look at Magneto. The rage was easy enough to see, and it was to be expected. The look of betrayal was odd though, almost as though what Peter had done had hurt, and hurt very badly. He'd been a prized soldier, and when he was younger he'd thought he was special, but he had figured out that was just a soldier to Magneto.

"Why?" Magneto demanded.

For a moment Peter considered lying, or telling him he didn't know. However, he actually did have an answer to this question.

"You asked me, earlier, why I chose you," he managed.

Magneto's eyes were still on his. Peter started shifting his weight, getting ready to get back on his feet.

"And I told you that it made sense," he said, "But...I wanted to be something greater than I was. Something better."

His spare hand dug into the ground. Magneto's expression eroded, and Peter swallowed. What was going to happen next would be painful, but he would prefer it if Magneto understood his reasons. He owed him that much.

"I never wanted to be a killer," he said.

"I told you why these things had to happen," Magneto said.

Peter was a little surprised that Magneto was still talking. He expected him to listen to his explanation and then continue trying to destroy him. Instead, it was almost like having a conversation. The person he was having a conversation with was holding him in a death grip, but still.

It was both humbling and violent. The two things that Magneto did best.

"You did," Peter said, "And I'm sorry I believed it."

With his spare hand, he pushed upwards so that Magneto was back on the ground. Peter jumped to his feet and grabbed Magneto by the back of his shirt. Then he started running, making sure that Magneto hit each and ever one of the tents' wooden support beams. Looked like not everyone needed metal.

Something grabbed his foot and yanked him to the ground. Once there, metal bands began snaking their way across his wrists and legs. Peter tried to struggle, but one piece suddenly linked with the others and stiffened. It felt like it was a body cage.

"I'm sorry you feel that way," Magneto said, "I truly am."

And yes, there did seem to be some sincere regret in there. Peter struggled in his bonds, that same little voice telling him that there was something peculiar going on with this, but he told it to shut up so he could concentrate on not dying.

A loud crash filled the air, along with the swooshing of cloth and the screams of whatever guards they hadn't managed to take out earlier. Both he and Magneto looked as a heavy-set, chipped truck roared through the middle of the camp.

The doors opened at once. The Professor was the easiest to recognize, but he wasn't perfectly sure about the other two. He vaguely remembered the big hairy guy, but the blue woman took longer to place. After nearly a minute, he realized that she was the one who'd stopped Magneto from killing the president.

Peter wasn't sure what their presence meant, but he knew that, if those two were with Xavier, then it was very likely indeed that they would be excited about the weapon. With them fighting with them, they might actually have a chance.

It made him feel a little bit better about betraying nine years of his life. Just a little bit though. Just a little bit.


	29. Chapter 29

Lorna felt dizzy and sick. Every movement seemed like it was an immeasurable chore. Wanda, who looked weak herself, put her arm around her shoulder and went to help her to her feet. Lorna would have been grateful for the help, but she spotted Alex.

He was still unconscious, and she made a vague movement towards him. Her sister seemed to understand, and she moved her closer to him. Lorna put a hand on his shoulder and, with what little strength she had, shook him.

Alex remained unconscious. Wanda sighed.

"I think I have enough power for this," she said.

She reached out and tapped his head. There was a scarlet glow, and then Alex woke up, coughing and sputtering.

"My powers really are only limited by my imagination," she said, looking impressed with herself, "Need to remember that."

Lorna managed a smile too. At times like this it was easy to remember that Wanda was Peter's twin. She reached out and touched Alex's face. He looked up at her, and his face lit up when he saw her.

Ignoring Wanda, he pushed up and put his handcuffed arms around her. Wanda made a noise, but let go of Lorna's shoulder. Lorna allowed herself to lean on Alex's chest, her head tucked neatly into the crook of his neck.

"You're back," he said.

"Looks like," she said.

Her voice sounded rough, and Lorna could still taste something coppery in the back of her throat. Alex looked at her with concern.

"She just coughed out a malevolent entity," Wanda said, "Give her a rest."

His eyebrow arched.

"Wow," Alex said, "Consider me impressed."

She smiled, and Alex leaned in and gave her a kiss on the forehead.

"Glad you're okay," he said, "That whole black lips thing looked really bad on you."

Lorna laughed, even though it hurt a little. Her sister was frowning, but Lorna nodded so she'd know it was a joke. For a moment she closed her eyes, letting herself glory in the safety of the man she loved and her sister. She could feel Alex's arms around her, and she knew that Wanda was close.

But it only lasted for a moment, because she knew what it was the machine did. She knew what Essex had been working on: he'd discussed it in great length with Malice. So she opened her eyes and touched Alex's handcuffs. They sprang off, and another touch got rid of the cuffs around his feet.

It felt like pulling teeth.

"Lorna?" Wanda asked, seeing her exhaustion, "You okay?"

"Not really," she said, "But we need to get out there. The...machine that Essex built, it's gonna kill a lot of people if we don't stop it."

There was a loud crash outside the tent, almost as though someone was slamming into one of the support poles. Wanda got shakily to her feet, and Alex helped Lorna to hers. She nearly fell when they got up, but Alex quickly caught her.

"You sure you want to do this?" he asked, "Maybe you should rest."

She shook her head.

"You'll need me," Lorna said.

Alex looked at her uncertainly but, instead of arguing with her, Wanda's voice cut off whatever words he wanted to say.

"If she says she can do it, she can," Wanda said, "And, trust me, if she's with us, then there's less chance of some asshole catching her off guard here."

Alex gave her another worried look, but he didn't argue. Maybe he didn't feel like arguing with both of them, or perhaps there was something in Wanda's tone that showed him he was going to lose. So he gripped her waist tighter, Lorna fixed her arm more securely around his neck, and they exited the tent.

* * *

Logan spotted Emma even before he got out of the car. She was glittering and sparkling and, even though he'd never seen her like this, Kayla had told him what she could do. She'd confessed it in the same breath where she'd told him about Stryker, about the deal she'd made to save her sister's life. Mystique had been with them that day, the messenger of an ugly truth, and insurance against his sanity slipping.

It hadn't mattered in the end though, not with Kayla's feelings being more real than the lie she'd had to tell him. They had gone into that plant to save her sister, and he'd come out of it believing that he'd lost them both.

But now Emma was only a few hundred feet from him. She was in danger again, but a different kind than what he'd tried to rescue her from at three mile island. No, now she was in danger from herself and those who would seek to use her for their own purposes.

The truck turned in the dirt. There was fighting going on all around them, but his eyes were fixed on Emma's position. She was fighting someone who looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn't place him. Either way, he was growing blue fur and claws.

Logan bounded out of the car, ignoring everything else. He still wasn't sure what he was going to do next, but he knew he had to stop the two of them. From what Charles had told him, the guy with glasses was one of his teachers. If Emma was fighting him, then things really were as bad as he'd thought.

He ran up to the two of them, but stopped just before he jumped in between them. His healing factor was as strong as ever, but getting in between the two of them would result in several broken ribs in seconds. It would make talking difficult.

"Emma!" he yelled.

She looked up, and he saw confusion in her sparkling eyes. The guy with glasses used this opportunity to try to swipe at her, but suddenly clenched the side of his head and winced. He looked over at Logan and Logan saw recognition there. So he really was familiar.

Charles must have said something to him, because Hank had suddenly started to back off, his eyes going to what looked like a metallic canister in the middle of the camp. Logan figured that was the machine that Essex had been commissioned to build.

"Logan?" she murmured.

The diamond skin began to recede, almost as though someone was peeling it back. Logan saw a confused young woman underneath it, looking as lost as the day that Kayla had pulled her out of her cell. She slowly began to shake her head.

"You died," she said.

"I wish I had sometimes," Logan said, "But for some reason, I keep goin kid."

A sudden, almost crushing hope showed in her eyes. He knew what she was going to ask and, although the words were bitter, he couldn't let her believe it any longer than she had to. He'd lived too long trying to ignore the fact himself.

"She's gone," he said.

The hope died immediately. He saw a certain hardness in Emma's jaw, but she looked like she was going to say something. Good. As long as she was talking, then there may yet be some hope for her. Once they stopped talking, like his brother had, then there wasn't any hope left.

"Why did you get to live?" she hissed, "Why didn't you die? Why didn't you protect her?"

Logan swallowed, and answered the question as honestly as he could.

"Ask myself that every mornin," he said, "Still don't know."

Emma's hands clenched into fists.

"That's not an answer," she said.

"All I got kid," Logan said.

She looked around her, and Logan could see that her hands kept releasing, and then bunching up again. He hadn't been around her long enough to know what that meant.

"You're here now," she said, "Why?"

"Thought ya died that day," Logan said.

"I might as well have," said Emma.

The words were matter-of-fact, void of self-pity. Logan could feel his old worries, as well as those of Mystique, creep up on him. She sounded too much like him, and that was far too much to feel at that young an age.

It was the recklessness of youth combined with the pain of the ages. It was too easy to understand why she wanted to hurt others.

"Didn't mean ta leave ya behind," he said.

"I turned out alright," she shrugged.

He gestured around him.

"This is alright?" he asked.

"I need to stop him," Emma said blankly.

"Kid, Stryker senior's goin senile," said Logan, "His son's a coma patient, a damn vegetable. Has been for a year."

Her brow furrowed.

"He went to the United Nations two mothns ago," she said.

"Shapeshifter," Logan said, "Ya mighta noticed he's been acting funny. That's why."

Emma hesitated. It was one thing to think that your quest for revenge might be pointless. It was another thing to know it.

"They still need to pay," she said.

"And how many others?" demanded Logan.

He still didn't know exactly what the machine did, but from the way her eyes glanced back at it, Logan could tell that he'd come close to its purpose.

"All of them!" she snapped, "All of them! You know what they did!"

"Yeah, they took ya mother and sister," Logan said, "I get it, I do. But this won't help you, and it sure as hell won't help them!"

"It's what my mother would have done!" Emma screamed, "She would have burned the world if she lost me!"

"And what about Kayla?" said Logan, "What would she've done?"

She paused, and Logan could tell that she'd thought about this. Perhaps she wouldn't have liked the answer.

"I saw what she did when they took ya from her kid," he said, "I saw what she was willing ta do. They said, go seduce this guy, make him believe he loves ya, and we won't hurt ya sister."

Emma's mouth dropped open. She hadn't known that that was what had happened. There had been very little time when they had first found her, too little to explain the sacrifices that Kayla had been willing to make for Emma.

But it had been nothing compared to what had actually happened.

"But even then," Logan said, "She wasn't that kinda person. She...we..."

He closed his eyes. He could still see their living room, see Mystique in the corner, watching the two of them. She'd just told Logan the truth about Kayla an hour earlier. Kayla had been driving herself home from work that day, so he'd been waiting there to confront her.

And she'd told him, told him everything. He'd looked away, wondering if this was how this was always going to tend. After all the lives he'd taken, all the shit he'd done, he hadn't deserved a normal, happy life. The blow still hurt deeply, so he'd said, with a bitterness only a man who'd lived hundreds of years could muster:

"But it was real for me."

When she'd told him it was real for her too, he hadn't believed her. Not yet. It had taken five days of searching for leads on her sister, for him to really, truly believe it. Their days had been numbered but, at the time, all he'd seen was a future with her.

It made it hurt all the more when it was taken away.

"It ended up being real for us," Logan said, "Even when she was supposed ta hurt someone, even when she wanted ta, even when that person woulda had it comin, she couldn't be anything other than who she was."

Emma stared at him, her entire body tense and her eyes filling with tears.

"Who are ya gonna be kid?" he asked.


	30. Chapter 30

When Lorna came out of the tent, the first thing she saw was the scene on the hill. There was a man she didn't recognize talking to Emma, his eyes earnest but his body tense. Hank was standing nearby, watching the scene with undisguised nervousness. Even the professor, along with a blue woman she didn't recognize, were looking at the proceedings with concern.

But once she tore her eyes away from the scene on the hill, she realized that other things were happening. Xi'an was using her arms to pull herself forward on the ground. Her leg was terribly mangled, and it made Lorna nauseous as well as dizzy to look at.

There was fighting from further in the camp, and she figured that meant Sam. She spotted Magneto getting to his feet, talking to someone on the ground. It only took her a moment to realize that that person was her brother.

Normally this wouldn't have surprised her, it looked like there had been several injuries that night, but he was locked in what looked like a metal body cage. Its curiously fitted construction meant that Magneto was the only one who could have put him there.

And there were very few reasons why that might be. It was possible that Magneto had put him there to stop him from interfering in the proceedings. Not knowing what side Magneto was on at the moment didn't give her any more information than that.

She jerked her head towards him, and Alex turned his head. Immediately after, he furrowed his brow.

"What am I looking at?" he asked.

"Not sure," she said, "We need to...get to Karma. Find out."

Alex and Wanda both gave her a cautious look, as though she had just asked to run a marathon. Perhaps Wanda's support for her only went so far, and that was something she could sympathize with. Even Lorna was fully aware that she was too weak and dizzy to stand on her own.

But Xi'an wasn't under fire, just in a lot of pain. Alex dropped to the ground, taking Lorna with him. Wanda followed, and they moved forward until the were level with Xi'an. She looked up when they came, and then snorted. It was a weak imitation of her usual devil-may-care attitude, but she was well-enough to interact with them.

"What took you so long?" Xi'an gasped out.

"Complications," replied Alex, "You gonna be okay?"

Xi'an gave him a nasty look.

"I can see my femur," she said bitterly.

"I can pop it back in," Alex said, "You won't be able to splint it, not until Beast gets here-"

"That sounds really painful," snapped Xi'an, "And, for some reason, I think breaking whatever spell that guy up there is weaving on the Frost bitch up there with a scream would be a bad idea."

"Geez," Alex muttered, "Ask a simple question."

Xi'an made a dismissive wave with her hand, but then looked at Lorna.

"Lips and eyes are normal again," she said, "You still possessed?"

"No."

"Good," Xi'an said, "Was getting real sick of that bitch Malice's attitude. Where is she?"

"I killed her," said Wanda.

Xi'an looked at Wanda with what Lorna could only describe as admiration.

"Good for you," she said.

She pushed herself up, and Alex put a hand on her back to steady her.

"Karma, what's going on?" he said, "We just got here, and it seems like we missed a shit ton."

"Yeah, well, quick notes," she said, "Charles is here with the blue girl-"

Alex started and looked at the Professor. Had he not seen the blue woman before now? There was some recognition in his eyes when he looked at her, and Lorna narrowed her eyes, trying to remember if she'd ever seen her before.

A dim memory from a scratchy TV flooded her mind. That was the woman that had stopped Magneto from killing the president. But there was another level of significance, one that was a little less widely known.

"Not since she stopped Magneto from killing the president."

That was the Professor's sister. What was she doing here?

"-that guy's trying to talk some sense into Frost," Karma continued, unaware, "Cannonball's fighting that weird scientist somewhere, and over there I think Mags is trying to kill Quicksilver for trying to stop the machine-"

"What?" Wanda roared.

Wanda turned, and Lorna could see what she was about to do before it happened. It was the same thing that Lorna would do if she had the strength. Red sparks gathered in Wanda's hand, and shot straight for Magneto.

He looked up just in time to get a face full of Wanda's powers. He was knocked off his feet and into a tree, his back slamming up against it. Magneto got back up on his feet in time to see Wanda jump in front of her brother.

"You don't get to harm him," she growled.

Lorna could just see the shock on Magneto's face: no doubt he had never expected either of her siblings to rebel, let alone be attacked by both. However, Wanda was emotional, and Lorna knew that Magneto wasn't called the master of magnetism for nothing.

"We need to get over there," she said, "As soon as possible."

"Lorna, you need to stay here with Karma," said Alex, "Neither of you are well enough to go into combat."

"My powers can be long-distance," Xi'an snapped.

Lorna gave her a quick grin, but then redirected her attention to Alex. She could hear the sounds of battle filling her ears but, out of the corner of her eye, she could see that the man on the hill and Emma were still talking.

They needed to move now, while they still had time.

"How do you plan to get Peter out of that thing?" asked Lorna.

"Well-" Alex began.

"In one piece."

He went silent.

"I see," Lorna said, "Look, not my best idea, but we have to do something. He could be in pain."

When Alex looked at her again, she could see the concern there. Her hand reached out and touched his. Although she knew he had accepted that she had two siblings in the Brotherhood, she doubted that he understood how things stood between the three of them. Alex hadn't been conscious when Wanda had freed her, didn't know that things were shifting yet again between them.

But she needed him to trust her.

"We can figure things out as we do this," she said.

He squeezed her hand back, and then stretched out his arm.

"Mags hasn't seen us yet," he said, "Just knows Scarlet's there. Let's give her a little bit of help."

Red heat surrounded Alex's arm, and he sent a blast at Magneto that knocked him off his feet. Wanda seized the moment and kicked him in the face, before hauling him to his feet and throwing him some distance.

Nodding to himself, Alex picked Lorna up and dragged her to where her brother was. Wanda was already kneeling there, concerned but not speaking. Peter looked up when he saw Lorna and smiled that same goofy grin she remembered from her childhood.

"Glad ta see you're back to normal," he said.

Lorna grinned, and tapped her hand on the metal restraints. It took some effort, but they broke away, leaving her brother free to move. Lorna slumped in Alex's arms, and she felt him press a kiss to her temple.

"Now," Alex said, "Let's go see how we can help out the Professor."

* * *

Emma knew that she was trembling, and she knew that everyone was watching her. She also knew that if she remained indecisive for too much longer, Beast would try to rush her in order to shut down the machine. The calculating part of her head was already figuring out how to stop him, and just which bones to break.

But, more or less, that part was running on auto-pilot. Logan was alive. That shouldn't have changed anything, but, somehow, it did. Emma had only really known him for a day, but she had seen the tender looks he and Kayla had exchanged. They had been a big part of each others' lives.

So, seeing him there, asking her for something, that hurt. He wanted her to stop what she was doing. If he had just been asking for himself, then she would have said no. It would have been easy, and she would have been able to dismiss his request as weakness.

But he was asking for Kayla, not for him. He knew exactly which words to use. Emma looked back longingly at the machine. It had all been so simple a few hours ago. Everything was supposed to end after today. She could have her revenge, and then get on with her death. It was almost certain, given the filthy looks Essex had been giving her the last few hours.

"Ya do this kid, and that decides who ya are," Logan said, "Somethin like this, it's not somethin ya can come back from."

She turned back to him, her feet shuffling.

"I can't come back from her death either," Emma said, "Her or my mother."

Yes. Kayla had been the last straw, but she supposed this had been building for a long time. Emma dressed like her mother, kept the Frost name and legacy alive in all its terrible beauty and power. But she killed in the name of Kayla.

The two women she'd cared about, united in one cause.

"Comin from someone who's been around for centuries, ya can come back from losin people ya care about," Logan said, "And ya can do it without destroyin yaself in the process."

Emma bit her lip.

"How old are you?" she asked.

"Real old," Logan said, "Lost alotta people. But...Kayla, Kayla might've been the worst."

The raw honesty in his voice made her pause. From the side, she could see Beast shift his weight. She wanted to tell him to wait one damn minute. This was a lot for her to take in, a lot for anyone to take in, and she didn't have much time to make a decision as it was.

Who was she? Beneath her admiration of her mother and love for her sister, had she ever asked herself that question? Emma didn't think so. Did she have any identity apart from how she felt about them? Again, she didn't think so.

And maybe that was why their deaths had made the rest of life meaningless. Stryker had stolen her family, but he had also stolen who she was. Without the two people she cared about, she was nothing. And she wanted to make him pay for making her feel that way.

She gave another longing look at the machine. Emma had seen herself as selflessly giving her life to make sure that her sister and mother received justice, and she got her revenge. If it was all about her, and how she felt, then that made the deaths of twenty-five percent of New York rather pointless.

Emma returned her attention to Logan. It was almost like he could sense her wavering. He held out his hand.

"Doesn't hafta be this way Emma," he said, "Ya don't hafta be that person."

A lump welled up in her throat, and she took a tentative step towards Logan. She knew what putting her hand in his might mean. If she did that, then he could physically throw her away from the machine. He could break it, he could do a million things that would prevent her from getting her revenge.

But she did it anyway, because Kayla had trusted him, and because Emma wasn't sure she wanted to be the person he was describing. He gently squeezed her hand, and put his spare hand on her shoulder.

Emma hung her head then, because she wasn't sure how to cry anymore. Logan tilted her head up, making eye contact with her.

"Kid-" he began.

He suddenly stiffened, then grabbed her shoulders and pushed her out of the way. Emma rolled on the ground and watched in horror as Essex slashed where she had been, his knife coming up and cutting Logan's face.

He flashed her a look of contempt before he raced the final few steps to the machine. Logan was looking for him, momentarily blinded by the blood, but she knew he wouldn't find him in time. Desperately, Emma reached for his mind, only to find herself blocked.

She turned to diamond and raced after Essex. However, even before she got close, she knew she had lost. Essex pressed his palm into the center of the machine, and whirring sound filled the air. The machine was armed.

* * *

_**A/N: **Five more chapters to go. _


	31. Chapter 31

Even from where Alex was, he knew what had just happened, and what he needed to do. The yelling was intense and, above it all, the man who had tried to dissect him glowered at his friends. Not on his watch.

He let go of Lorna, trying as gently as possible to set her on the ground. He put both of his hands together and let out a concentrated blast, coming in just under his heat threshold to avoid radiation sickness.

It sent Essex flying back, but he knew that the damage had already been done. The air was filled with the sound of something whirring and chugging. All he had done, possibly, was prevent more damage, and give Hank a clear path to the machine.

One way or another, he needed to get up there. He quickly looped Lorna's arm over his shoulder and got to his feet.

"We need to get up there," he said.

It was more of a statement than a question. No matter what happened, Lorna would want to be there seeing if she could help. She gave him a brief nod, and then looked at her siblings. Perhaps she wanted them to come with them, but he had other ideas.

"Quicksilver," he said, "Cannonball is somewhere in the camp. Karma said he was fighting Essex, so if he got past him, he injured him pretty bad. I need you to find him and put him with Karma. One of us will be able to give them at least rudimentary treatment. It's why we carry first aide packs."

"On it," Peter said.

He disappeared in a blur. Alex turned to Wanda.

"Can you see if Karma needs medical attention?" he asked, "I think she might've given herself some of the pain killers from her pack, but from the way she was snapping at me, I'm not sure. Just shoot her up with morphine if she hasn't, make sure she's not going into shock, then join us at the top of the hill."

Wanda looked like she was about to argue, but instead nodded. Maybe she thought she could get things done faster if she didn't argue. She gave a brief wave to Lorna, perhaps to reassure her, and then hurried over to where Xi'an was.

Alex began to head to the machine, motioning for Wanda to do the same. He could see that Mystique and Already Hank was kneeling by it, frantically looking at the wires. Emma was kneeling next to him, her eyes wide.

Even from where he was, he could hear the beginning of their conversation.

"Why hasn't it gone off already?" Hank asked, "Not that I'm not grateful, but-"

"It needs to heat up to the appropriate temperature," Emma said, shaking her head, "That takes a little bit."

"How much is a little bit?" asked Hank.

"About fifteen minutes," she said.

That wasn't perfect, but it was better than nothing. He saw Charles immediately look at his watch.

"He didn't tell me much about his plans, but that I remember," Emma said, "I was mostly interested in anything that someone could do to stop it. I wanted this to be fool-proof."

Her voice sounded guilty, but the time for guilt was long past in Alex's opinion. She could wallow in "what-ifs" after all of this was over.

"Can't you just read his mind, find out anything else?" Mystique asked.

"If I could get into his head then he wouldn't have been able to turn on the machine," snapped Emma, "There's a block there."

"She's right," Charles said, wheeling up to the small group, "I can't get in either."

Alex settled down next to Charles, still allowing Lorna to lean on him. Charles gave him a relieved look, something that Alex could only return in passing. To Mystique he gave a tired grin, he still appreciated what she'd done for him in Vietnam, but current events didn't allow it to last very long.

In front of him, Hank tapped on the wires gingerly.

"I can see where there's a clear connection between the canisters and the heat source," Hank said, "I think the best way to do this would be to disconnect the two."

"That's not a good idea," said Emma, "You do that, and the whole thing explodes. Kills us instantly, and it gets it to the right temperature pretty fast to disperse."

Hank let out a frustrated growl.

"Is it triggered by cutting the wires, or by removing the canisters?" asked Hank.

Emma bit her lip.

"I don't know," she said.

Hank made another frustrated noise. Alex heard a whoosh and looked down the hill. Peter was laying Sam next to Xi'an. He was covered in blood, and Alex felt something sharp twist inside him. Not again. Not like Sean.

Peter looked up, and their eyes locked. He looked down at Sam and then back up at Alex. He gave him a thumbs-up. While Alex was sure that Sam wouldn't agree with him, he knew that it meant his friend was still alive. Good.

Wanda looked up at Peter and began talking, while Xi'an pulled herself over to Sam. He could already see her digging around in her medical pouch, no doubt hoping to bandage some of his injuries so he didn't bleed out. What a trooper.

"Can I drain the chemical from the canisters?" Hank asked.

Alex looked back at the scene in front of him.

"It becomes breathable as soon as it hits the air," she said, "It won't disperse as much, probably cover around half the area, but there are a lot of towns around here."

"Shit," said Hank.

Lorna gave his shoulder a squeeze.

"Can I...I don't know, cut off the power?" asked Lorna, "I can control metal. Perhaps I can do something with that?"

Emma began chewing on her lip again. Alex gave Lorna a desperate look. If she could do something then, yes, of course she would have to. But right now he wasn't even sure if she could stand on her own. That didn't bode well for any complicated undertakings, or her condition afterwards.

"Maybe...you can mold the canisters into a position so that they could siphon off into something," she said finally, "That's possible: it is in liquid form right now. But I don't know what you would siphon them off into."

"Nothing weak," Hank said, tapping the canister, "This metal, it's unfamiliar. There's only two metals I haven't seen before in my life: adamantium and vibranium. I don't think this is the former, the lustre isn't high enough, but if it's either one of them than we're not going to have anything strong enough to hold it."

"So what do we do?" Alex said.

Hank gave the canister a long look.

"Lorna, remold it so that I can siphon it," he said, "I can imagine that whatever's inside it would be able to be contained in some of the tools I have for a minute or two before it shatters and gets released."

"What good would that do?" asked Logan.

"Just have some faith," Hank said.

Lorna nodded fiercely. She gave Alex's shoulders another squeeze before reaching forward. Alex held onto her as she remolded the metal. He could see her eyelids drooping, feel her entire body trembling from exhaustion.

When both canisters were done, she collapsed. Alex managed to keep her from hitting the ground, but she had finally slipped into unconsciousness. He gathered her in his arms and then looked at Hank, who gave a satisfied nod at the canisters.

"This'll work," he said.

"Good," said Alex.

He knew he shouldn't be short with his friend, Lorna had offered her skills after all, but she was also unconscious. Alex hoped that her efforts meant something.

"But before I do anything," Hank said, "I want to get away from here. If this goes wrong and it goes off, I want to give it the smallest populated blast radius possible. How much time do we have left?"

"Ten minutes," said Charles.

"I need about eight minutes to work on this, so I need to get pretty far away in two minutes," Hank said.

There was a blur next to him, and Peter appeared, leaning on the machine.

"I think I can help with that," he said.

* * *

Honestly, it seemed like a no brainer. The minute he heard that they were talking about going somewhere fast, Peter gave Wanda a quick squeeze on the shoulder and headed up the hill. Hank smiled at him and got up, brushing his hands off on his pants.

"Alright," he said, "Just take me as far as we can get."

"Do you need someone to go with you?" asked Alex.

"Hey, I know I'm fast, but the more people I take, the more people slow me down," Peter said, putting on his goggles, "From what you said, it sounds like we've gotta get moving, like, right now."

"He's right," Hank said, "We need to get out of here, and we need to get out of here fast. Charles, talk to me in six minutes, and try to get the closest towns evacuated."

Hank grabbed the sides of the machine, and Peter put one arm around his shoulder. His other hand went behind his head.

"Just wanna make sure ya don't get wheep-lash," he said.

"Not high on my list of priorities right now," said Hank, "Timer's on. I'll tell you when to stop."

Peter laughed, but he kept his hand behind Hank's head. He surged forwards, dodging trees and jumping over rocks. It was a little more difficult than usual: Hank was heavy and so was the payload. However, he'd always prided himself on being able to push through things like this in the past. No sense in stopping now.

"Thirty more seconds," Hank said.

He began looking for a good place to stop. There was a valley about eight miles away, so he headed there. He vaguely remembered Lorna telling him something about valleys being good for containment. Peter still wasn't sure what that was about, just some book she'd read when she was ten.

Peter got there just in time for Hank to ask him to stop. He set down the machine and Hank immediately began getting out his medical equipment from a pouch in his uniform. So that was what that pouch was for.

"Anything I can do to help?" he asked.

"No," Hank said, "I just need you on standby in case this doesn't work. Just go to the nearest town and tell them to get out if Charles isn't able to convince them. Might give them a chance."

"Got it," Peter said.

Hank began pulling equipment out of his pack, stuff that looked like it was for blood transfusions. Peter looked at it curiously. The X-men really were full of surprises, and it certainly explained why they never seemed to be in as bad shape as the Brotherhood after a fight.

"So, what exactly are you planning on doing?" asked Peter.

"I should be able to quickly modify the blood transfusion equipment so I can use it to tap into the chemicals," he said, "If I do this fast enough, then it won't have time to burn through the plastic before it reaches its destination."

"Okay, but what are you putting it into?" Peter asked, crouching by him.

"A syringe."

"Okay," Peter said uncertainly, "Ya know, I'm not a genius like you or anything, but wouldn't it just burn through that?"

Hank closed his eyes before continuing his work.

"Yes," he said, "That's why I'll be injecting it into myself almost immediately."


	32. Chapter 32

"Sorry, what?" Peter asked.

Hank didn't look up, just continued with the tubes.

"This is a mutagen designed to be absorbed by the body," he said, "Logically, that means that the body should be able to accept it even if it's not breathable. Having it in a concentrated dose like this will be tricky, but it will work."

"Okay, okay," Peter said, feeling a little hysterical, "I get that and all, I really do, but what the hell do you think dumping that shit into your system is going to do to you? You're already a mutant!"

Hank's jaw seemed to tighten even further.

"It's meant to increase the X-gene until it becomes the predominant one," Hank said, "In a host where there's already an X-gene, I would imagine that it would increase the abilities. From my prior experiences with this sort of thing, it can often take mutations in strange and unexpected turns, increasing them to the point where they may be dangerous to the host."

Throughout all this, Hank continued working, as though he had just politely explained to Peter a chemical equation that he was too dumb to understand. However, through all that mumbo-jumbo, there was one thing he understood.

"It's going to kill you, isn't it?" he said.

"That's the most probable outcome," Hank replied, "If the incident with Scott and Alex's mutation has taught me anything, it's that the body is in a very delicate balance with its own mutation. Alex and Scott had to have special chemicals produced in their blood that allowed them to accept their radiation. Multiply the mutation in a way that the body can't keep up with...then yes, death is likely."

Peter stared at him, feeling something like hysteria welling up.

"Dude, that is so screwed up," he said.

"Short of producing another vibranium canister, this is the only thing that I can think of that will work," Hank said, "We don't have much time, and a warm body is the only other viable container. If you have another suggestion other than my possible death, I'm all ears."

"You know Charles is going to stop you when he contacts you in a few minutes," said Peter.

"No, he won't," Hank said.

He took two syringes out of his bag.

"He respects my decisions and, even though it'll hurt, he'll understand why I have to do this," Hank said, "He'll let me die if he knows I think this is the right path."

"I can't believe you're okay with that, that he'd be," Peter said, "I'm not going to let you-"

"No, I'm not okay with that! I'm not okay with that at all!" snapped Hank.

He locked eyes with Peter, and it was only then that Peter could see tears of frustration and sadness welling in his eyes.

"I'm not going to live to see my students graduate, or finish up my work in the lab," he said, "I'm not going to be there to save my friends the next time the Brotherhood leaves them broken and battered. There are a million things that I will never experience again, people I will never see, and a life that I will never be able to complete!"

His hands clenched his equipment.

"I am not okay with dying, but given the time we have, it's either I die or thousands more do," Hank said.

There was a short pause and, for a second, Hank's hands stilled over his work. He bowed his head.

"And that's a sacrifice I'm willing to make," he said, resuming his work slowly, "It's not an easy one by any means, but it's one I've been willing to make ever since I put on my uniform. It's one that Charles and Alex and all my friends understand. It's what I was always meant to do, so please, for the love of God, don't stop me."

Hank took a deep breath and continued working. Peter just stared. For a long time, he'd thought that he'd known the difference between the X-men and the Brotherhood, just like he'd understood the difference between the strong and the weak.

But appeared that he was only now beginning to understand it. Hank was willing to die for people he didn't know, people who might hate and fear him if he ever met them on the street because, even if they didn't care about him, he cared about them.

And Peter had heard that line of thinking before.

"Sure, he was my son," he muttered. "But I think to him they were all my sons. And I guess they were, I guess they were."

Hank briefly paused.

"Why are you quoting _All My Sons_?" he asked.

"Didn't know that's what it was," Peter replied, "Just...something Lorna said. That's all."

"Sounds like something she'd quote," Hank said, continuing his work, "I think it was her favorite play."

Peter didn't say anything, just continued to watch him. He knew that he should be trying to stop him, but all he could hear were Lorna's words, overlaid with Hank's, and something he'd heard long ago in Sunday school, back when he was a child.

_Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one's life for one's friends._

If you saw the whole world as your friends, then that was a tall order. But, evidently, it was one that Hank was willing to fill.

"Will this even work?" Peter asked quietly.

It was a futile question, he knew that even before he asked, but he had to ask him all the same.

"Yes," said Hank, "The absorption aspect will anyway. I...I'm not exactly sure if I'm going to be conscious for the last injections. I know I told you to help evacuate the nearest town..."

He trailed off, but the question was there just the same.

"You want me to give you the last few injections," Peter said.

"Yes," Hank replied, attaching two of the tubes to the siphons, "I originally attached two syringes to make it go faster, but having a second will work in case we need to take that route. They fill up by themselves, so we have that angle covered."

Despite the bile rising in his throat, Peter nodded. He could just add this to his list of sins, helping kill Hank. Feeling lost he looked around, trying to make sense of it all.

"What if you die before you get the last doses in?" he asked, "Will your body still absorb it?"

Hank's fingers stilled.

"I don't think so," he said, "But...if I do this fast enough..."

Even to Peter, he sounded uncertain. Peter looked at the machine, and then back at the two canisters. The logical conclusion filled his mind, even as it filled his heart with ice. He closed his eyes, and said a silent apology to anyone who might care.

"Or you could do the safe thing," he said, "And let me help."

"I am," Hank said.

"No," Peter said, "Really let me help."

Hank didn't stop working, but he saw a wave of tension spread over him.

"No Peter," he said.

"Hank, if we both do it, then maybe we have a shot at living," Peter said, "Let me help. I'm the one that helped Emma get all this stuff-"

"I severely doubt that we'd both live, even if you did help," said Hank, "It's more likely we'll both die. And you didn't know."

"That's no excuse," Peter said, "But letting me help is the only way to know for certain it'll be gone for good."

"I can't ask you to do this," Hank answered.

Peter gave him a rueful grin. The one time he tried to do something good, and someone was trying to talk him out of it.

"You didn't ask," Peter said, "And you can ask anyone: I'm a stubborn asshole."

Hank looked like he was going to argue further, but then he winced.

"Charles is reaching out," he said.

"Right," Peter said.

He sat down next to Hank and picked up one of the syringes that was connected to the canister.

"Then let's tell him what we have planned," he said.

* * *

Wanda watched Xavier as he put two fingers to his temples. Over the last few minutes he'd been sending several messages to the surrounding towns, making local officials believe there was a gas leak and the towns needed to evacuate. Emma had been assisting, crouched down next to him, her lips moving wordlessly. It might not mean anything if the people weren't willing to get out soon, but it was a start.

Now though, now the minutes had passed and it was time to check in with Hank. She waited, one hand helping Lorna stay in an upright position along with Alex. Her sister had just started to come around. Her eyelids were fluttering from time to time though. She'd have to talk to Lorna about overextending herself in the future.

"Hank?" Xavier asked.

His tone was disbelieving. Emma opened her eyes next to him, and Alex began moving forwards slightly.

"Hank, you can't-" began Xavier.

He rubbed his chin for a moment, and then bowed his head. Wanda thought she saw tears gathering in his eyes. Alex moved forwards more, panic written across his face. The blue woman looked alarmed as well, but she was keeping an uneasy distance.

"Charles, what's-?" Alex began.

Immediately he fell silent, his mouth dropping open and his eyes widening. No doubt Xavier was keeping the communication strictly telepathic.

"Hank, sonuvabitch, Hank, don't," he said.

Xavier looked away, his gaze redirecting to Emma. Something was going on, something bad. Wanda felt Lorna squeeze her hand, worried for her old teacher, for Alex and Xavier, who both looked like they were crumbling.

_Hey guys._

Wanda blinked in surprise. Peter's voice echoed through her mind, and she looked around. Lorna had that same confused look on her face, but her eyes were turned in Emma's direction. It was then that she realized Emma was looking at them sympathetically, no doubt responsible for the fact that they could hear their brother.

_Peter, what's going on?_ Wanda thought.

_Hank asked that Emma let me get into contact with you two,_ Peter thought, _Private conversation over there. As for the rest, um, I um, no great way to say this..._

The ensuing silence was frightening.

_Peter?_ Lorna thought.

_No, it's um, Hank's siphoning the chemicals right now,_ Peter thought, _He's going to put them in syringes and then...then we're going to inject them into ourselves._

_Wait, what?_ Wanda demanded.

_That's exactly what I said_, Peter thought, a ripple of uneasy laughter coming through the line, _I know it sounds crazy, but there isn't anything else that'll work._

_But, Peter, what'll that do to you?_ asked Lorna.

There was more silence, this one even scarier than the last. All of the anger that Wanda had felt against Peter melted away.

_Peter, oh God, Peter, don't do this_, Wanda thought.

_It's the only way,_ thought Peter, _Not how I would've chosen, but...you know I was going to run away? After all this was over, I was going to run away?_

_I don't-_ Wanda thought.

_I thought it was the only way that I could make things better,_ Peter thought, _That I just needed to disappear. But now...knowing that I'm never going to see you again...that's not what I want. I wish I could've given you the apology that you both deserved, been the brother that you needed._

Lorna's grip on Wanda's hand intensified. She could hear her sister's breathing become more erratic.

_We've all made mistakes,_ Lorna thought.

_Not like me,_ he thought,_ Tell mom I'm sorry. I don't know if that's how I feel exactly...but I think I've been unfair. And I love you. I really do and...I just want you to know that I never wanted this. Any of it. _

_And we don't want this now!_ Wanda nearly screamed.

All around her the world seemed to be spinning out of control.

_Look, for a long time I've held onto the belief that I'd done the right thing,_ Peter thought, _That there's been something other than selfishness motivating my actions, that Lorna was dumb to leave, and that advancing in the Brotherhood was a good goal._

Wanda began sobbing, her body glued to the spot with pain, but her heart and mind miles away with her twin. Next to her she could hear Lorna's tears, and she grabbed her sister and held her, the only thing that seemed real in any of this.

_I think it's time to let go of all those shitty beliefs and go back to the ones I used to think were important,_ Peter thought, _I always wanted to do something great, to be more than I was._ _I'm just sorry it's going to be like this. I don't want to die, not without seeing you all again. But...dying for something great, with the last people I talk to being the most important people in my life...all things considered..._

She could almost see his cocky grin, and that made her cry all the harder.

_There are worse ways to die, right? _

Wanda wanted to say something, but even her thoughts were choked now.

_Peter...I...I never hated you, _Lorna thought,_ Never stopped loving you. I just...I couldn't-_

_It's okay. I think I get that now, _Peter thought.

Lorna's tears intensified. Wanda continued to hold onto her sister, refusing to believe that this was happening.

_I...I have to go soon. We're going to start injections in a minute. _

_Please Peter, I love you,_ Wanda thought,_ Please don't-_

_I love you too. _

_Peter!_

There was no response, only silence. Wanda fell to the ground, Lorna's sobs the only thing she could hear besides her own screams of anguish.


	33. Chapter 33

When the connection severed, Hank put one of the syringes into Peter's hand. Peter could see Hank's hand tremble: the syringe was already filling up with liquid, and it sloshed back and forth when he handed it to him. This was the man who had calmly tended his wounds, the steadiness and quiet strength of a doctor in every movement.

And now his hands were shaking. Peter didn't mention it as he gripped the syringe, carefully avoiding the needle. Hank had briefed him on how things had to go from here on out. It was going to be painful, and it was probably going to be death, but it would run like clockwork.

At least he wasn't being safe right now. It was a bitter consolation, but it was there.

"Inject it into this vein," Hank said, tapping one of the lesser veins on his arm, "It'll absorb it slower, which means it'll take longer for us to be affected. We need to start this quickly, because it's heating up right now."

"This is going to hurt like hell, isn't it?" asked Peter.

It was halfway full now.

"Yes," Hank said quietly.

Peter swallowed and looked around the woods. He felt both trapped and free. He'd let go, just like he'd told his sisters, but the thought of his imminent death didn't fill him with any kind of bravado. Not like it did to heroes in the movies.

"You're very brave you know," said Hank, "I know it doesn't mean much, coming from me, I'm just...you've changed."

He willed himself to look up, to see condescension in the older man's face. Instead he saw nothing but sympathy, and maybe some admiration. Fancy that.

"Whether or not you take that as a compliment, it's meant as one," Hank said, "I'm not sure if that asshole who barged into the Institute demanding his sister back all those years ago would have done this."

"Maybe not," Peter said, feeling his throat clog, "But he wouldn't have been proud to die alongside an X-man either."

He locked eyes with Hank.

"I think we can safely assume that I'm a different man now," Peter said.

Hank nodded, not breaking eye contact. Peter could see a million unfulfilled wishes and fears there, and he wondered if it had been just as difficult for Hank to say his goodbyes as it had been for Peter to say his.

At least he finally understood his 'enemy.'

"Ready?" Hank asked.

_No._

"Yes," Peter said.

He plunged the syringe into his vein and pushed. Immediately Peter winced at the heat, but he knew that wasn't the pain that Hank had warned him about. A strange prickling was spreading through him, but he knew that wasn't the pain that Hank had alluded to either.

What was coming next was going to hurt a lot worse.

"Hey, Hank?" he asked.

"Yeah?"

"If you don't want to tell me, it's cool," he said, "Just...what's _All My Son's _about?"

Hank gave a grim smile. Peter could see that his syringe was nearly full again now, and Hank nodded at him. He injected himself again, and it felt like fire through his veins. A sharp pain was starting in his chest, almost like heartburn.

"After many years, going to war, his brother goes missing in combat, a young man comes home," Hank murmured, "During the war his...his father was accused of...giving damaged equipment to the military. Twenty-one pilots died. His father was found innocent...maintained his innocence for years...swore to his son that he didn't do it..."

"He did it, didn't he?" asked Peter.

The pain was starting to spread in little tendrils throughout his entire body.

"Yes," Hank said, "And his son...the one that went missing, wrote a letter. Before he left. About the accusations against his father. Couldn't take it. Killed himself. Tehy find it. And his surviving son convinces him to turn himself in."

"Does he?" asked Peter.

The syringe was full again. He pushed, although his hands were shaking almost uncontrollably. It wasn't the fear causing it though. He looked over at Hank. It might have been his blurring vision, but he thought that Hank was starting to turn into his blue, furry form.

"He kills himself instead," said Hank, "Because...they were all his sons...his responsibility, his fellow man...and he killed him."

Peter nearly laughed, because, in a way, he'd almost taken the same way out. Suicide was just another form of running away after all. Just a way to leave all your problems behind, pretending there weren't any consequences.

"Coward," he said.

"Yes, no, maybe," Hank said, "Up to you."

His vision was beginning to blur. Peter could feel a pressure in his chest, almost as though something was crushing his heart. At the same time, he could feel it beat faster, like a hummingbird. He was even breathing faster, in short little pants.

Next to him, Hank had fully turned into the X-man who had thrown him and his teammates around like ragdolls. He seemed bigger somehow though, and Peter found himself wondering what he looked like.

"But I can see how Lorna'd like it," he managed, "Who wrote that?"

"Arthur Miller."

Peter frowned. His syringe was almost full again, and he was getting ready for another injection. The name was kind of familiar though.

"Isn't that...the guy who married Marilyn Monroe?" he asked.

"Yeah. That all you...remember about him?"

He injected himself again, and the world lost its color as he laughed.

* * *

The frantic ride in the jeep was silent. There were only a few people who could fit inside, with Logan and Emma being left to tend to the injured. The blue woman was left in the driver's seat, her eyes wide and her entire form bent forward. Xavier had both of his hands to his forehead, murmuring directions from time to time.

Wanda sat in the back seat, staring forward. Peter's words were looping back and forth in her head. Her brother was dying on a hillside somewhere, convinced that he was doing the right thing. It seemed so stupid, so unlike her brother to sacrifice himself for people he didn't know. But maybe he'd meant it when he'd said that he'd wanted to be something better, that he truly wanted things to be different.

Did it have to be like this though? Had every step they'd taken since that fateful night when the agents had come to their home led to this? All that holding on, all that sacrifice, all that selfishness? She had left it all behind, let go of what had held her back for so long. But no matter what she did, it seemed like she was going to end up losing a sibling.

Lorna sat next to her, their hands twined. Tears were still flowing quietly down her face, but Wanda had spent so many years suppressing her tears that she wasn't sure if she could cry anymore than what she had already wept. Lorna could still cry though and, not for the first time, Wanda envied her.

Alex was on the other side of her sister, his own hand engulfing Lorna's spare. All the color had drained from his face, and he kept looking at the blue woman, almost as though she could drive faster. She didn't know how long he'd been friends with Hank, what kind of anguish he was feeling.

She didn't really care. Hank was a good man, and his death was sad, but her brother was dying. There was no sadness that she could feel for anyone else, no pain that could even compare. Peter had been with her since birth, her second, stupid half. They had come into the world together, and now he was going to leave it alone.

Leave her alone. Leave them both alone.

"Just up ahead," Charles murmured.

Her head shot up. The blue woman rounded a corner, and a small valley opened up before them. Wanda's heart leapt into her throat as she saw the distant forms of Hank and Peter, both of them slumped in front of the machine. As they grew closer, she could see the syringes clenched in their hands.

She stifled a gasp, trying to stay strong as the jeep screeched to a halt. She kicked the door open, dragging Lorna with her. Wanda knelt by Peter, brushing the hair away from his forehead, and knocking the empty syringe out of his hand. Vaguely she registered Alex doing the same with Hank, muttering all sorts of things to him.

Her brother's eyes were closed, and his hair was plastered to his forehead. Where it had once been grey, silver really, it was now a stark white. She touched his face. It was boiling hot, and covered with a slick sweat.

Next to her, Lorna immediately took his pulse.

"He's alive," she said, "I don't...it's going so much faster than it should Wanda."

"Peter, what did you do to yourself?" Wanda sobbed.

It looked like she'd been wrong about the tears.

"I think...whatever this was," Xavier said, his face ashen as the blue woman helped him out of the car, "Whatever this was, given Emma's description of its purpose, I think it might have enhanced their mutations."

"That's not so bad," Wanda said desperately.

"Yeah, it is," snapped Alex, "Hank was always damn fond of reminding ourselves we shouldn't screw around with our genes...goddamnit Hank..."

Wanda looked up at Xavier, at the crushing way he was looking between Hank and Peter. She remembered Magneto telling her he was a geneticist. If he thought this was bad, then she had no doubt that that was exactly what it was.

"We might still be able to do something. You said his heart was beating faster Lorna," Charles said, "Alex, check Hank's. How fast?"

Her sister put a trembling hand back to Peter's pulse. She was counting, and Wanda looked between Peter and Hank.

"He stopped breathing!" Alex said.

She saw Alex begin CPR. Wanda felt like she couldn't breathe either. Everything was spinning, Alex was giving Hank chest compressions, and Lorna was trying to stay concentrated enough to give a heart rate count.

From behind her she heard a gasp. Hank sat up, clawing at Alex's shoulders. Charles let out a relieved laugh, but there was no relief. Not for Wanda.

"How...I'm alive?" Hank asked.

"You bet your blue furry ass you are, and don't you dare go around trying not to be!" Alex snapped, furious tears in his eyes, "Bad enough what happened to Sean, but, goddamnit!"

Hank let out a choked breath and put his hand on Alex's shoulder. She supposed it was meant to be comforting, but Alex wouldn't look him in the eye. With another choked breath he looked over at Peter.

"I...I think it's two hundred and fifty beats a minute," Lorna said.

"He can't survive long on that," said Hank.

"How can we slow it down?" Wanda demanded.

"I...I'm not sure if I have the tools," said Hank, weakly clawing at his pouch, "I don't-"

"It's speeding up!" Lorna said.

There was pure fear in her tone, and Wanda gripped Peter's hand tighter.

"Please, please don't do this," she said.

Lorna looked up and met her eyes.

"Wanda, you can help him," she said.

"I can't," Wanda said, "You...you know I can't heal people. Think of your nose Lorna-"

"That was years ago," she said, "You're much stronger than that. I know you are."

Wanda looked at her brother. Even through her gloves she could feel the veins in his arm throbbing.

"We don't have a lot of time," Lorna begged.

She grabbed Wanda's free hand.

"You can do this," she said, "I know you can. Please, Wanda, please."

With a shuddering breath, Wanda gripped Peter's hand tighter. She could feel the warmth flowing through her, and red sparks danced inside her eyelids.

"Not now Peter," she said.

The speed of his pulse against her hand seemed to increase, and she could feel his temperature rise. She pushed back at it, barely knowing what she was doing. Lorna took a sharp breath beside her, and Wanda bowed her head.

"Not now that we're all together," she pleaded.

The heat was increasing. She had no idea whether it was from her powers or Peter's body as it tried to cope with what he'd put in it.

"Not now that things can be different," Wanda whispered, "I'm not..."

She swallowed, feeling herself begin to drift away, lost in a world of red sparks and warmth.

"After everything I let go," she said, "I'm not letting go of you too."


	34. Chapter 34

"Ugh...''

"He's up!"

Peter groaned again and tried to sit up. Immediately, four hands shoved him back down so that his back was pressed up against a bed. If this was Hell, then it was too gentle. If this was Heaven, then someone needed to tell the ministering angels to be less assholish.

He cracked an eye open and saw Lorna and Wanda staring down at him, concerned. They both looked exhausted, their eyes rimmed with red. However, barring some terrible accident, if they were here then that meant he was alive.

Any jubilation he was beginning to feel over that fact was suddenly squashed when he saw Wanda's concern evaporate. His sister was pissed.

"Ahhh, shit," he said.

"Yeah," Wanda said, "I'd beat the shit out of you if you weren't in a hospital bed right now."

"Duly noted," said Peter, "Ummm...too much to ask what happened?"

Wanda snorted and turned away. Lorna sighed, and Peter thought he saw a nerve in her jaw twitch.

"Both of you managed to empty the canisters, so the machine didn't go off," she said, "Once we figured out you weren't dead, Wanda managed to stabilize your heart."

"You can do that?" asked Peter.

She snorted again, and Peter figured that was as good an answer as he could expect.

"Meanwhile, Emma and Logan were busy tending to Cannonball and Karma," Lorna explained, "When they had made sure that things weren't getting any worse, they started looking for Essex and Magneto. They didn't find either."

"Shit," Peter said.

He leaned back. Now there would be two super-powered people who would hate his guts running around.

"Great," he said.

Peter looked around at the several different IVs on the walls, the way he was propped up.

"Any lasting effects?" he asked.

"You're hair's white," Lorna said.

"Awww!" Peter said.

While he'd gone silver prematurely, he'd hoped that he'd have some time before he ended up snowy.

"But I'm not like crippled or anything?" he asked.

"Not as far as Hank can tell," said Lorna.

"He's alive too?" asked Peter.

She nodded and he started laughing.

"Awesome!" he said, "Shit, I was really worried there for a minute!"

"And you think we weren't?" Lorna said.

Her voice hardened and became as sharp as Wanda's. Peter winced.

"I...guys...I'm..." he began.

Peter faltered, trying to figure out what he was supposed to say next. After a moment, he decided he was enough trouble as it was. There was no reason for him to go around lying. It wouldn't help, and he had the advantage of being in a hospital bed. They wouldn't hurt him while he was laid up.

Not too much anyway.

"You know what?" he asked, "I'm not sorry."

"Come again?" Wanda growled.

"I'm just not," Peter said, "I mean, yeah, I'm sorry I was gonna die and all, but I didn't see any other option. I mean, from the way Hank was talking, a lot of people were gonna die if we didn't do something. I know I haven't been such a great brother or anything, but I thought it might be nice to die as a halfway-decent human being."

Wanda snorted, looking to Lorna, as though for support. Peter gave her a half-shrug.

"They were all my sons," he said.

Lorna closed her eyes and bowed her head. He could see tears gathering in her eyes. Great. Now he was making her cry again.

"I know," she said, "I'm glad you know too."

"Wait, seriously?" asked Wanda, "You were ready to kill him when you found out he was going to live."

"That's really counterintuitive," Peter said.

"Shut it," Wanda snapped, "Lorna?"

She looked up, wiping the last of her tears out of her eyes.

"He's right," she said, "I would like to think that I would have done the same thing in his place."

Wanda clenched her jaw.

"Look, that's all very well and good, saying you're dying for a good cause and all that," she said, "But...Peter...you were going to leave with me still being pissed at you. With all this shit unresolved! With all this-"

"I said I wasn't happy about it," Peter said defensively, "I just didn't know what else to do."

He reached out and took her hand.

"I know that...after everything we've been through, we've like, still got to talk and stuff," he said, "And there's a lot to work through. I still need to figure out exactly how I feel about mom for a start. I'm getting that I was too harsh and all..."

Peter stopped and looked around the room.

"Actually, where is she?" he asked, "Did she think I didn't want her in here or-?"

"She wasn't sure," Lorna said, "I think she just wanted to figure out where she stood first. As soon as she knew you were going to be okay, she left for her room."

"She can come, if she wants," said Peter.

"Really?" asked Lorna.

The hope in her voice glowed like a beacon.

"It would mean so much to her," she said.

"Yeah," Peter said, "I mean..."

He sighed.

"I don't know what's gonna happen next," he said, "I can't go back to the Brotherhood-"

"I shot Magneto halfway across the clearing," Wanda said drily, "I don't think I can go back either."

"Okay, we can't go back to the Brotherhood," Peter said, "I'm recovering here, but I don't know what I'm gonna do next. With that in mind..."

He shrugged.

"Might be nice to like, rebuild some bridges," Peter said, "Starting with the ones right here."

Wanda's hand, which had until then been limp in his, squeezed his. He reached out with his other one tentatively towards Lorna's. Out of the two of his sisters, he had probably wronged her the most. Just because she had been in the same room with him, had been angry over the possibility of his passing, didn't mean he'd be accepted.

But she closed the remaining distance and grasped his hand with hers. She smiled, a genuine one, an expression he hadn't seen on her in a long time.

"I think we'd all like that," she said.

* * *

Magda sat on the edge of her bed, breathing hard. Her son was okay. Her daughters were okay. From what Lorna had told her, Wanda and Peter had decided to cut ties with the Brotherhood. In some strange way, this was the happiest ending she could ask for.

But it seemed like it was going to get happier. Wanda wanted to talk to her. She had no idea how the talk would go, or what would happen next. But, for now, the very fact that she wanted to talk seemed like it's own special brand of magic.

She had hoped that, perhaps, Peter would want to talk too when he woke up. If he saw that his sister was willing to, then he might have a change of heart. Magda knew that they would never be the happy, sitcom family of the 50's. They wouldn't be the family that she had imagined when she was a little girl.

But they might talk to her about their day, about their hopes and dreams. That was all she could ask for, and it was her greatest ambition in life. It seemed as though it was going to come true. No one was going to be cut off.

And now, Peter was asking for her. She'd gotten the call from Lorna, her most loyal child, the one who had been willing to talk and listen when no one else had. It made sense that she would be the one to tell her that all her dreams were going to come true.

She sighed softly and clenched and unclenched her hands on her lap. However, no matter how good the news was, she was terribly nervous. A great deal of time had passed since she'd been able to have a civil conversation with her two eldest siblings. She had to calm herself down before she went to talk to them.

"Magda."

She stifled a scream and turned around. Erik was standing there, leaning up against the wall. Magda glared at him.

"When did you get in here?" she demanded.

"Not too long ago," he said dismissively.

"You tried to kill Peter," she snapped.

"No, I tried to stop him. It sounds like he didn't need help with trying to die," Erik said tersely, "Not from what Charles tells me."

She felt both cold and hot at once.

"He's talking to you about this?" she snapped.

"I have something of an agreement with him," Erik said, "Similar to the one you have with him, I think. He tells us what he knows of our children, while letting us decide on when we reveal their parentage."

Guilt flooded her. Yes, in many ways she was doing the same thing. However, his last words gave her an uncomfortable chill.

"You can't do this now Erik," Magda pleaded.

"Interesting," said Erik, "No threats this time? No plans to lie to our children?"

"Peter is recovering, Lorna and Wanda are on the brink of exhaustion-" she begged.

Erik pounded a fist into the wall.

"I'm aware of all of this! You think I'd tell them now?" he snapped, "How cruel do you think I am?"

She crossed her arms in front of her chest protectively. Once, Magda would have known what would happen next. Then she'd seen Erik on TV threatening the president. Magda didn't know what he was or wasn't capable of any more.

"You've been capable of cruelty in the past Erik," she said.

Erik gave a dry chuckle and turned away.

"Fine words Magda," he said, "Given that you were willing to lie to the one child who still trusted you."

She looked away. A bitter, sickening feeling was starting to boil in her stomach.

"But, it may give you some peace of mind to know that I don't intend to tell our children that I'm their father," he said, "Not now and, with any luck, not ever."

Her head shot up.

"I don't believe you," she said.

"Oh, don't sound so surprised," Erik sighed, "You may not trust my motives, but there really doesn't seem to be much point."

He looked down and began adjusting his gloves.

"Did Charles tell you that both Peter and Wanda attacked me today?" he asked.

Magda shook her head mutely. No. It appeared that she had missed quiet a bit of information about that day. That was only compounded by the strange realization that he was calling their eldest children by their real names.

"Not out of spite or, at least, Peter didn't," Erik said, "Wanda thought she was defending him. But, afterwards, I realized something very important. Something you should realize too I think."

"And what's that?" she asked.

"That you, or I, or any parent they may have will always come second to the love they have for each other," Erik said coldly, "Whatever their ideology is now, and I know it is certainly not mine, will come second to that."

"So...you don't care that you're their father any more?" she asked.

"No," he said, "No, that's not the case."

Erik's voice became quiet, almost wistful.

"Now that they don't share my beliefs, my being their father will not necessarily be seen as a good thing," he said, "At the moment, whatever equilibrium they are building will be shattered with the knowledge that they have me to thank for their genes and, quite possibly, a rather poor start in life. No, they won't want to know."

She could have cried with relief.

"You won't...they won't know now?" she asked.

"Oh, they'll know," Erik said, "These things seldom stay buried forever."

"But, but you said-"

"And I'm not going back on my word," said Erik, "One way or another though, I believe they will find out. It just won't be from me. It's the one gift I can give them that will mean anything to them: peace of mind. At least for now."

He nodded his head towards the door.

"But you should get going," he said, "I believe Peter called for you, didn't he?"

Magda took a faltering step backwards. Erik narrowed his eyes.

"Go," he said.

She gave him a long look before heading out. As she walked down the hall, she realized that, for better or for worse, she really never had understood the man whose children she'd borne. It was unlikely she ever would.

* * *

_**A/N: **One chapter left. _


	35. Chapter 35

"Are you going to stay?"

Mystique hesitated. Her brother was giving her a look that was so hopeful and earnest that it was on the verge of breaking her heart. She cleared her throat and decided to answer the easy part of the question first.

"I know Logan's going to take Emma to Canada," she said, "They're um, they're going to give the Hellfire Club a message saying Essex tried to kill Emma or disobeyed her orders or something. Apparently that's enough to make him an enemy of the Lords Cardinal. After that he says he wants to give her a chance to start figuring out who she is."

It all sounded a little existential to her, and not something that Logan would deal with. However, Emma was Kayla's sister. Mystique had the feeling that he'd read poetry aloud if it meant that she had a chance to heal.

"I thought it might not be time for him to join us just yet," Charles said.

She wanted to ask what he meant by that, but the next question brought her up short.

"And you?"

She began fiddling with her jacket.

"I can't," she said.

"You can though," Charles said, his voice matching the look in his eyes, "I know the transition might not be easy for you, but you're welcome to stay here, by all of us. You saved Alex's life, and he takes that sort of thing very seriously."

"And Hank?" asked Mystique.

He answered quickly, and Mystique wanted to cry. He'd really been thinking about all this.

"He's hurt, but healing," Charles said, "If I'm to be honest, I would have to confess that it's unlikely the two of you would ever be...close again, but-"

"It's hard to trust someone after they cause you that level of hurt," said Mystique.

"I wouldn't say that."

She took a shuddering breath.

"You would have to talk to him about it more," Charles said, "I won't speak for him. But I know he will speak with you. He's a good man, one of the best I've ever had the privilege of knowing."

"I can't stay Charles," she said.

"I wish you'd reconsider," he said sadly.

Mystique squeezed her eyes shut.

"You don't understand," she said, "I have a son."

Her brother's gasp was so audible that she was sure it could be heard from the next room over. Mystique managed to open her eyes, but she immediately directed her gaze at the wall opposite her. She didn't want to see whatever it was that would be in his eyes.

"When-?"

"About twelve years ago," she said, "His father was...his father was Azazel."

There was no second gasp. She began to pick at her nails.

"He's been um, staying with some friends," she said, "I hear he's a good boy. I visit when I can but...I need to stop...be better..."

"He could come here."

She froze.

"I understand if you don't want to," Charles said calmly, "But I would love to meet my nephew, and the school is a good place for him to grow up, especially if he's a mutant. Is he?"

"Yes," Mystique said, still feeling frozen.

"Then I can even recommend some courses," said Charles, "Again, it would be quite a transition but-"

"Charles, why do you want me back?" asked Mystique, her fists clenching, "After everything, after hearing I'll be dragging along a son, why?"

It took a moment for Charles to respond. When he did, it wasn't what she had expected. Chuckles filled her ears and she turned, her eyes wide with disbelief. Charles was smiling and shaking his head back and forth, his eyes twinkling.

"Raven, I will always want you back," he said, "No matter what you do, I will always hope that we can work things out together. And if you have a son, well, that just means that the first person I cared about has given me more people to care about."

Mystique forced tears back.

"You can't just wave a magic wand and make all those years disappear," she said.

"No," Charles said.

He smiled again.

"But we can certainly do our best to move forward," he said.

* * *

Alex glanced at the door to the next room. He knew that Magda had gone in about an hour beforehand to talk to her children, and they'd tried to give her some space. Soon though, the real world would have to intrude again.

"So what does the blood work say?" asked Alex.

Hank didn't answer immediately, which worried Alex. His friend hadn't been very talkative after the ordeal, which Alex could understand. He looked different, bigger and, if possible, bluer, but that made sense from what he understood about the chemicals in the machine.

What he couldn't understand was the utter nervousness Hank seemed to convey.

"I think that, from now on, Peter will be faster," Hank said, "I don't think that there will be any other lasting repercussions for him."

"That's good," Alex said, leaning his back on the table, "He's an asshole, but he's still Lorna's brother."

Hank nodded and began looking at the papers in front of him. Alex paused, and then looked down.

"You know," he said, "You said there wouldn't be any lasting repercussions for Peter. Not for both of you, but for him."

The silence that followed felt uncomfortably thick.

"Hank," Alex said quietly.

"I tried my serum when we got back," Hank said, "Because I...no matter. It doesn't work."

Alex bit the inside of his cheek. While Hank's 'Beast' form held no terrors for him, he knew that it made him wildly uncomfortable. It was why he injected himself with it every morning, to make sure that no one else had to see it.

In some ways Hank was still that insecure eighteen-year-old with big feet who wanted people's approval.

"You could make another one," he said tentatively.

"I don't think so," Hank said, "It was a miracle that I was even able to develop that first one, honestly. Took me over a year and now that my form's advanced..."

He tapped his claws on the countertop.

"I think I'm stuck with this," he said.

Alex pushed off from the table and walked over so that he was standing next to him. Hank still wouldn't look up.

"You aren't 'stuck' with anything," he said, putting his hand on Hank's shoulder.

"Easy for you to say," mumbled Hank, "Your students will still recognize you on Monday."

It was crude, but also, unfortunately, true. Alex didn't know how many of Hank's students besides Lorna had seen his other form.

"I never thought this far ahead when I took those injections," Hank said, "And now...I don't know..."

Alex's hand tightened on Hank's shoulder. He had an ugly feeling where this conversation was going, and he wasn't about to let it reach its destination.

"Hank, I'm not going to pretend that the next few months won't be hard for you," he said, "Or the next few years. But I am always going to be there for you, as are the rest of the X-men. And..."

His voice caught.

"I can't lose you too Hank," Alex said.

Hank gave him a sad look. Alex could feel that both of their minds were years away, when a seventeen-year-old redhead had told them he'd be fine before running off into danger. Alex had never seen Sean alive again, and he wasn't going to let that happen to Hank.

"I'll be there for you when you start over again, no matter how many times that takes," said Alex.

"So I take it you won't be leaving the Institute again?" asked Hank.

It was said in a soft tone, possibly an attempt to lighten the conversation. Alex cracked a smile.

"For the foreseeable future," he said, "I've tried going it on my own and, to be frank, it kinda sucks."

Hank chuckled, and then looked over at the door.

"We still have to deal with the twins," he said.

"Yeah, business," Alex said.

He took his hand off Hank's shoulder. There was a struggle ahead, for all of them in so many different ways but, for now, it could wait.

"I talked to Charles a couple hours earlier while you were doing the blood work," said Alex, "And we have a few ideas."

* * *

When Alex walked into the room, followed quickly by Hank, Lorna thought that there was something about his stance that was off. Alex never really stood straight, his posture always slightly slouched and relaxed. Now, while he wasn't exactly standing at attention, there was a subtle shift.

"Not interrupting too much, are we?" he asked.

"Couple of years worth of major issues, but nothing that won't wait for an hour," Peter said.

She smiled: her brother's tone was almost cheerful. Lorna's mother smiled too, although she seemed rather nervous. It would take time to get her to be comfortable around her older children, she knew that, but it was time they had now.

"Good," said Alex, "Because we needed to discuss what happens next."

Lorna looked at Alex. It wasn't just his stance that was off: it was his tone too.

"Now, normally Charles would be here too, but he's busy dealing with some of his own family stuff," Alex said, "So, it looks like it's just going to be me and Hank. But, for now, we kind of have to deal with the fact that we have two members of the FBI's most wanted list residing underneath our roof."

A stony silence descended. Next to her Peter and Wanda began to look worried.

"Don't worry," Alex said, "We have no intention of turning you in. I know I have something of a reputation with you two, but we aren't in a hurry to create more mutant terrorist cases for our enemies to parade in front of the camera crews. And you just saved my best friend's life, and Lorna's too, and thousands of people's which counts for something."

He cleared his throat.

"At the same time, this is a school," he said.

Lorna gave Alex a long look, realizing what was going on. She had never really seen him in his role as leader of the X-mean. She'd only seen him when he joked around with the X-men's members, played with his cousin, or taught P.E. She'd never seen him calm and authoritative, his voice measured.

It felt distant, and she wasn't sure she liked it.

"I'm guessing we're going to have to hide for a while?" asked Wanda.

"Pretty much," Alex said, "At least for a year."

"A year?" her mother asked, worried.

"I know that's a while, but these tunnels are actually bigger than they seem," reassured Hank.

"It's plenty of space, we just can't risk the kids seeing you and getting chatty," Alex said, "We won't force you to stay here, but if you do we'll figure out times when you can go outside and so forth. If you still want to do something for the cause when you get better, then I'd be happy to retrain you in the Danger Room to avoid casualties, things like that."

"What, you want us to become X-men?" asked Peter.

"No, I don't think that's a path that we can pursue," Alex said, "If the X-men ever go public and people find out we have two ex-Brotherhood members on our team, it's going to look bad. We can't have people thinking we're two parts of the same militia."

He shook his head.

"No," he said, "I know you don't like them, but some of my contacts in the SSR, sorry, SHIELD now, say that they're trying to put together a team. Might take time, but my word still means something. You'd have to really sell the whole 'rehabilitated' thing, but it could work."

Her brother and sister shared an uncertain glance.

"We'll think about it," Wanda said.

"Good," Alex said, "I'll get going, I just wanted you to know-"

"And me?" asked Lorna.

Alex looked at her, surprised.

"Sorry?" he asked.

"And me?" Lorna said, "No offense, but over the past few days I've been possessed and dragged into a lot of things I really wanted to stay out of."

Alex's face softened, and Lorna felt herself relax. She'd really have to tell him to ease up on that stony Havok exterior of his. It made him much more approachable.

"I know," he said, "And I'm sorry-"

"So I think it's time I started training too," Lorna said, "As an X-man."

She could feel a ripple of shock around the room.

"Lorna-" her mother began.

Lorna reached out and grasped her mother's hand.

"Mom, for too long I've sat on the sidelines while decisions were made for me," she said, "And even when I had the ability to make those decisions, I still decided to shy away from what I could contribute. It's time I stopped stepping back and started stepping up."

She expected her mother to protest, but she just sighed. Lorna looked at Peter and Wanda who, to her surprise, were giving her encouraging grins. She looked back at Alex, who was regarding her with curiosity.

"So," she said, "When can I start?"

A slow grin broke out on Alex's face, and she found herself falling in love with him all over again.

"Just like everyone else," he said, "Soon."

* * *

_**A/N: **That's it for this trilogy! I had a really fun time writing about all three of the siblings in all of their complexities. Their relationship was really multilayered and, to my surprise, it actually took three stories, instead of the two stories I planned to figure it all out. _

_I have had some people ask if I plan to do more stories. I know that I've left this story with a lot of beginnings but, in my mind, it's one way to set up for the next X-man movie, where a teenage Nightcrawler is going to be hanging out with a teenage Scott. Also, when we see Hank later, he doesn't seem to be able to change forms. I don't know what my next story will be, I'm going to be moving soon so I won't have a lot of spare time, but I should be writing new stories in two months. _

_ I want to give a special thank you to remylebro, who was the one to suggest that I use Malice in one of my stories. However, they also suggested that, instead of the Alex/Lorna relationship being focused on like in the comics, I look at it through the lens of Lorna and her siblings. I also thought it would give Peter and Wanda something to really fight for, given their estrangement with their sister, and it provided Wanda with a chance to redeem herself. _

_For Peter's redemption, and Hank's sacrifice, I took inspiration from the comics. Hank actually did something like this there, which mutated him to his full "Beast" form. Given that there are some differences in the Kelsey Grammer and Nicholas Hoult "Beast" looks, mostly to do with permanence, this was my explanation. There are other reasons of course, age and so forth, but I thought this might help bridge the gap. _

_Magneto's final decision on his relationship with his children again was inspired from the comics. More or less, this seemed to be the line he took when the twins left the X-men to become Avengers, the team that Alex is referencing. Later in the comics, when the situation changed or when his parental skills are needed, I actually find that he's a pretty decent father, as Marvel Villain fathers go. _

_As for shoutouts, thank you to hippiechick2112, savedbygrace94, Lemonima, noamg, and ZabuzasGirl! See you in two months!_


End file.
